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Entered according to Act of Conese in the y 
By Heiten M. GRanaM, — 
In aie Office of the Librarian of Conte at 


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L Marquise, 


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An Italian Interdict. 


An Italian Interdict. 


CHAPTER I. 


One fine Winter’s day in Rome, the Eternal City 
as it is called, there was assembled a little party 
_ for the English custom of afternoon tea. 

‘* Well, Florence,” began Tony Mortimer, ‘‘ has 
Celia been showing you the sights? Where have 
you been ?” 

““Hiverywhere,” answered Florence, ‘‘ although 
I suppose you fancied that without your valuable 
aid we would be irretrievably lost ; nevertheless, 
as Celia will tell you, we fared very well.” 

_ The speaker was petite, with a certain piquancy 
and freshness to which was added now a supreme 
disdain. 

‘‘Cruel as always,” answered Tony. ‘I expec- 
ted as much. You have grown very contemptuous 
and very disdainful of late ; why is it?” | 

‘‘ Blame the world for it, not me ; one grows so 
always, I fancy, after one has been several years in 


ee the vortex. There is nothing like it for grinding 


down the sharp edges of one’s character,” 


2 


8 AN ITALIAN INTERDICT. 


‘‘ Florence,” here interrupted Celia, “‘you must 
stay with us for the Carnival. Surely that is the 
one time of all others to be in Rome.” 

‘‘Thank you, Celia ; but I fear you will be tired 
of me by that time, besides T do not know how 
long mamma and Bertie intend remaining. I must 
return to America with them, you know.” 

‘‘ And how soon will that he uC 

‘Tt depends upon Bertie’s health. Mamma ae 
to see a marked improvement in him before re- 
turning.”’ 

‘Well, I don’t want to quarrel with your sites 
brother, for it is owing to him that we have you at 
all, but Tam sure we shall be delighted to have you 
stay, shall we we not Alessandro ?” _ 

Her husband thus appealed to, smiled pleasantly. 

‘‘T should be only too eee he answered, in 
broken English. 

“There goes Adrian!” exclaimed Tony, who, 
during this conversation, had been looking out of 
the pees ‘‘T had no idea he had returned so — 
soon.’ | 

‘“Who is Adrian?” asked Florence, with her 
slow air of disdain. pipet 

‘Adrian Mancici, Duke de Colonna.” __ <3 

‘That man a Duke !” she exclaimed, as ‘Abokinoas 
out she saw a tall, well-built man, about Tony’s — 
- own age, in a shabby velveteen coat ; Bees sg 
bledetas “3 

‘‘True, nevertheless,” answered Tone < Se 3 
and proud like most OL his race ; ha! he sees i 
now and is looking ube 


AN ITALIAN INTERDICT. y 


Florence, veiled behind the curtain, saw his up- 
turned face, and something of the pathos of it— 
though he was smiling now—in the large dark 
eyes and delicate contour, struck home to her, and 

in a moment she was off her guard. 

“How handsome he is!” she exclaimed, as he 
disappeared with a wave of his hand. 

‘“You think so ?” said Tony, bitterly. ‘‘ Women 
are all alike; they jump ata title like a fish at a 
‘hook, and often get caught, too, for that matter.” 

‘*T have no desire for a title ; we Americans are 

too independent to care for a paltry thing like 
that,” she answered, with flaming cheeks. 
_ She had sat down to her embroidery, but a cer- 
tain annoyance at having betrayed herself made 
her fingers clumsy. Her silk knotted and her 
needle broke. Proud and high-spirited as she was, 
and contemptuous of light, every-day matters, 
there was a well of deep feeling at her heart which 
was not for every one—her pride, her irony kept it 
concealed ; but to those who could reach deep 
enough it was rich as it was deep. 

After dinner, as they were sitting in the garden 
under the orange trees, the Duke de Colonna sud- 
_ denly stood before them. 

— ** Good evening, Signora,” he said to Celia. ‘‘ My 

_ friend Tony, here,” laying a hand on his shoulder, 

“has spoiled me, and when I want him I come 
grright.in,” 


i “That is right, Adrian; you are always wel- 


come,” answered Celia. ‘But you have not met 


10 - AN ITALIAN INTERDICT. 


my guest, Miss Harrington. She is an old school- 
friend of mine.” : 


Adrian bowed, but before he could speak Tony 


broke in. 
‘*How long have you been in Rome—when did 
you get back ?¢” 
‘‘Only this morning. Ah! how good Rome is 
after one has been away for any length of time.” 
‘What a true Roman you are !” said Celia. 
‘Certainly ; why not?” he answered, smiling. 


I think it would take a great deal to equal Rome, 


either in her grandeur as she is to foreigners, or 1n 
her beauty as she is to us Romans.” 
‘“How you champion her!” laughed Celia. “I 


hope some time you will love a woman as pes 


as you love Rome at present.” 
‘*She has been a good mother to me,” he answer- 
ed. ‘‘I only give her my poor gratitude.” 


Florence had been silent, listening to the conver-— 


sation. Now Adrian farmed to her and, with a 
slight flush born of diffidence, said : 

‘Why are you silent, Miss Hartnaeee ¢ Are 
you not an admirer of Rome Me 

‘‘T can hardly say,” she answered calmly. ‘‘ | have 
been here so little and have seen less.” 


whe ee: 


‘Why, Florence,” exclaimed Celia, *‘ you have A | 


been very ene Peter’s, Arch of pits and 


Patrian—all over !” 


‘*T do not call that seer seeing or engine foe 
city,” answered Florence. ‘‘Can you knowawo- | 


man by the jewels she wears ?” 


‘‘ Miss Harrington is right,” said Adrian. “‘The 


, 
¢ Ml 
‘a tes La oF 


AN ITALIAN INTERDICT. 11 


greatest time to really see Rome is during the Car- 
nival.” 

*“If you can persuade Miss Harrington to stay 
to that,” said Celia, “‘ you can do what Alessandro, 
Tony and I have failed to do.” 

““Then I am afraid I can do but little,” said 
Adrian, rising. ‘‘ What are you painting now, 
Tony ?” 

‘**I have two or three pictures under way ; can 
you come in and see them?” 

‘* Not to-night ; it is late. Some other time.” 

‘To-morrow, then ?” 

‘Yes, to-morrow. Good-night.” 

‘Poor fellow,” said Celia when he was gone, 
‘‘*how can he manage to live from day to day, as 
he does, in boundless magnificence yet suffering 
for bread! It is the Italian system, and no one 
complains.” | 

‘‘TIs he really so poor?” asked Florence. ‘‘I 
thought he was titled.” 

‘So he is, my dear; but a title can not buy the 
necessities of life.” 


CHAPTER II. 


The next morning Celia was with her brother in 
the studio, and, as he diligently plied his Bese 
she pursued an animated conversation. 

“Tony,” she began, ‘‘why don’t you interest 
yourself more in Florence? She has been here a 
whole week, and I do not believe she cares one bit 
more for you than she did when she first came.” 

‘*T don’t believe she does,” he answered, hope- 
lessly. | 

‘Why don’t you make her, then ?” 


oe Everything I say she turns off into 


irony.” 

e What roe men are,” said his sister contemp- 
tuously ; ‘‘ you have not begun in the right way. I 
am exceedingly anxious to see you well settled in 
life, and Florence is charming. Besides, she is 


enormously rich. Her father left her a fortune 


independently ; he was a very wealthy man, and — 


there is only her mother and her little brother. 
That is why she is so independent in her ways and 
so outspoken, just like a man, for with her money 
she can marry anybody.” | 
‘‘T am afraid she could never care for me.” 
‘* Make her,” 


AN ITALIAN INTERDICT. 13 


‘* How ?” 

‘Why, there are a thousand little ways of show- 

- ing her attention, and I am willing to help you all 
Ican. It will take time and patience, and having 

her right here in the house is a great auxiliary.” 

**T will do my utmost ; I think she does not alto- 
gether dislike me.” 

“Tt is plain sailing. You have an open sea, fa- 
_vorable wind, no one else in sight; you have only 
to steer correctly, bear down upon her, and open 
fire.” . : 

‘*T am inclined to think, my dear Celia, you ~ 
could do all that kind of thing better than I.” 
_** Nonsense, show some spirit. Remember, ‘ faint 
heart ne’er won fair lady’ ; go in and win.” | 
- She was silent after that, and Tony continued to 
ply his brushes ; but the conversation made more of 
an impression on him than she knew, and he deter- 

mined to begin again on a new plan. 

Meanwhile, Florence, the object of their conver- | 
sation, was in the garden with a book she did not 
read. As she raised her eyes she saw the Duke ap- 
proaching her. Involuntarily she rose. 

- * You are out early,” were his first words as he 
_ joined her. 

‘‘Not more so than usual,” was her reply. ‘‘I 
think the air here tempts one in spite of one’s self.” 

‘‘Then you like Italy, do you not?” 

‘What I have seen of it, yes. It seems to me 
to be filled with the very nicest of everything— 
beautiful sky, lovely flowers, a perfect climate— 
what more could you have ?” ia, 


14 AN ITALIAN INTERDICT, | 


‘“And how about the people themselves—are 
they included in your list ?” 

‘Do you think so?” She was looking at him 
archly as she spoke. 

‘I hope so ?” he returned. 

She rose reluctantly. 

‘How the time has flown! Celia will wonder 
what has become of me; I must go to the studio. 
Come !” 

She said this in a tone of command, and the Duke 
gladly followed her. They entered the studio to- 
gether. 

Tony looked surprised when he saw them, but 
Florence seemed in the highest spirits. - | 

‘“You call yourself an artist, Tony, and yet you 
work indoors on a day like this !” she exclaimed ; 
‘‘that is a contradiction I do not quite under- ~ 
stand.” 

‘“We live to learn, you know; besides, as we 
have not tried out of doors we are satisfied here for — 
a time.”’ 

‘© At least it is cooler,” said Celia. 

‘“Sour grapes!” said Florence. ‘* You both 
ought to pose for Content; it would become you 
_very well.” 

‘You are always saying such nice, complies 
tary things about me, Florence,” said Tony, “I 
feel highly honored, I assure you. Adrian,” he 
continued, turning to his friend, ‘‘ you come just 
at the right time. I want you to pose for me.” 

‘*Pose for you! I could not do it.” 

‘Oh, yes. I want a figure, sort of reclining—an 


AN ITALIAN INTERDICT. 15 


Eastern Chief in his tent. You never refused be- 
fore; what is the reason you do so now ?” 

‘Well, if you insist,” he began, ungraciously, 
“*T have nothing more to say,” 

‘I wish I could paint,” began Tony, petulantly. 
‘*T wish you could tell me the secret of it, Adrian. 
Oh, those glorious pictures in your gallery! You 
should see them, Florence, such Angelo’s, such Ra-: 
phael’s, and every one worth a king’s ransom.” 

‘“Is this so?” began Florence. ‘‘ Will you show 
them to me ?” 

‘*Perhaps, some time,” said Adrian, slowly. 

“They are famous the world over,” said Celia. 
‘‘Have you never heard, my dear, of the great Co- 
lonna gallery ¢ ae 

‘* And is all this yours?” Florence asked, turning 
to him. 

‘* All mine,” he said, with a deep sigh. 

There was a long silence, during which Tony 
painted steadily. 

That same evening they were seated on the bal- 
cony, and Florence was watching the stars come | 
out one by one, when the Duke joined her. 

‘* What a perfect night!” she said. ‘‘Could any- 
thing be better ?” 

‘‘ Would you like to come down to the garden ?” 
he asked, eagerly. ‘‘We can see the moon rise 
there much better.” 

‘“Yes, I will go,” she answered, in her cold, 
measured tones; and he caught up her wrap of 
sheer priceless lace and threw it about her shoul- 
ders. 


16 AN ITALIAN INTERDICT. 


They walked for some time in silence. Florence 
seemed absorbed in her thoughts and Adrian watch- 
ed her beautiful, immobile face, happy that he was 
by her side. 

They came toa fqunte and she seated herself 
on.a stone bench, under a broken statue. Then 
she turned her tloan tranquil eyes upon him. 

“This is like a ‘Midsummer Night’s Dream,’ ” 
she said. ‘‘It is such a night as one might maa 
of. You do not feel it as Ido; why not?” 

‘‘Perhaps because I am used to it. Custom 
stales, they say, though I love it nevertheless.” 

There was silence for a time, and when she spoke 
again it was in a different tone. ae 

‘Tell me something of yourself; what have you 
been ?” : 

““There is nOnOS much to tell. I have been al- 
ways as I am now.’ 

‘Your face tells me better than your tongue.” 

‘“ What has it betrayed ?” he said, smiling. 3 

‘“That you have not always been like this ; per- 
haps once your people were mighty, you yourself 
~ were rich and powerful. Am I not right ?” 

‘‘T have never been other than I am,” he began, — 
in a low, sad voice, ‘‘as for my people, the Colon- 
na in.olden time were the great family here, they 
ruled almost absolute as kings. We were then very 
rich and very powerful.” . x 

‘* What caused the change,” she asked. 

‘‘ A thousand and one things. The times, the 
politics, the age, and when a house begins to tot- 
ter the downfall is precipitate, everything hastens 


AN ITALIAN INTERDICT. 17 


it. They lived on in the grand old palace, fighting, 
feasting, flourishing, without a thought of any- 
thing else until my grandfather’s time. He found 
it on the brink of ruin, with bankruptcy staring 
him in the face. But he kept on just the same, 
spending more than he could account for, keeping 
up the almost feudal customs till his death. 

_ “My poor father! with him it was different. 
His life was a hard, bitter struggle, that ultimately 
crushed him, and he died a worn out old man, at 
forty.” 

‘* And you have no one ?”’ 

‘*No one. I am the last, and me race will die 
with me. Father, mother, brothers and sisters 
have all gone, followed the fortune, and I stand 
alone in the midst of my ruined heritage bearing 
the fallen fortunes of the house of Colonna.” 

When he stopped, Florence rose and stretched 
her hands out to him. She was pale, and the tears 
welled up in her eyes and fell in great oro on 
her cheeks. — 

‘“‘Thank you so much for telling me all this, I 
feel already as if I knew you better, I do not think 
that their power is quite gone yet. ‘Who best 
bears his mild yoke they serve Him best,’ remem- 
ber that. But itis growing very late and I must 
return ; I had forgotten the time entirely.” 

They walked back to the house together. 

“TI will not enter, it is too late,” said Adrian, 
‘‘make my excuses to them and tell them I will 
come some other time.” 


s 


18 AN ITALIAN INTERDICT. 


The young girl turned to bid him good-night and 
stood fora moment in the door-way—the moon- 
light falling softly on her slender form and face 
that was replete with feeling and tenderness—then 
fluttered into the shadowy house. | 

Adrian stood looking after her for some moments, 
wondering what she had meant by saying, ‘‘ their 
power not all gone yet,” then wandered back 
again and stood beneath the shattered statue of the 
Hope. Was it an omen ? 


CHAPTER III. 


It was a glorious day, the sunshine was flooding 
the land and touching everything it came in con- 
tact with into pure gold, as a carriage passed into © 
the more unfrequented thoroughfares. It was a 
party consisting of Celia, Florence, Tony and Ad- 
rian, on their way to the ruins of the famous Baths 
of Caracalla. 

‘* How the beggars do persecute us to-day,” said 
Celia, ‘‘ I never knew them to be so persistent.” 

‘‘The two extremes,” said Ds. pointing, ‘‘here 
the palaces—there the beggars.” 

‘‘In this case the beggars overshadow the 
palaces,” said his sister. 

** A curious amalgamation of nature,” said Tony, 
‘‘Ttalian to the core. What are you thinking of, 
Florence? You are so silent.” 

**T was thinking how different it all was from 
America, here you have the two extremes, as 
Celia said, there all is equal.” 

“Tg America so different then?” asked Adri ian, 
looking up. 

‘* As different as a kingdom can be from a repub- 
lies 

‘¢ And which is preferable ?’ 


90) AN ITALIAN INTERDICT. 


‘‘It depends entirely upon the person. , Now 
Tony, for instance, should prefer this, from his 
artistic standpoint.” 

‘‘On the contrary,” said Tony, ‘“‘I am patriotic 
enough to prefer America.” 

‘‘Tony you are like the man in the fable, who 
got everything by wishing for it and Aoiine 
pleased him, they all came too easily.” 


“I don’t get everything easily at all,” said Tony, | 


¥ 
“4, 


‘‘T am afraid Florence is growing too Spied by Ss 


fare: 
‘Do you despise satire? I do not, I think it is 
an excellent weapon well used, but like the sur- 


geon’s knife, cuts and gashes terribly when used by 


an pales ee hand. It strikes at the i in 
everything.” 

‘‘Your metaphor is. excellent, Mademoisdte: a | 
compliment you for it, a replied Tony, ‘ ‘and. bow 
before your superior intellect.” | 

‘“‘Coming from you it is a compliment indeed, 
Signor Antonio.” 


‘“What nonsense,” said Celia, “‘you both talk 


like a drawing-room society play.” 
‘Florence, like every right- rene woman, must 


have the last word,” said Tony. ‘Oh, Subdrion: 


Being,” he continent “why do you not advocate 
woman’s rights ?” 
‘*So I do though not as interpreted by the world. 


I want woman’s eee only, not man’s Tights: 


usurped by woman.’ 
The carriage stopped here and they descend 


‘Have I shocked you ?” asked Florence, smiling _ 


ae RAN 


AN ITALIAN INTERDICT. 21 


at Adrian who was helping her descend. ‘‘ Do the 
- women of your country argue on these subjects ?’ 

‘If they did I think it would be better for them,” 
was the reply. 

The ruins were magnificent, the soft balmy Ital- 
jan air, the sunshine and the blue sky, pervaded 
earthing. 

‘*Look, Tony, there are the Blounts,” exclaimed 
Celia, suddenly, ‘‘don’t you remember Grace, that 
tall girl we met in London last year ?” 

‘“Why so it is, upon my word,” answered Tony, 
‘and looking prettier than ever.” 

Brother and sister hurried forward to greet their 
new found friends, and soon they were all chatter- 

_ ing together to the exclusion of everything else. 

‘* What a day for perfect happiness,” exclaimed 
Florence as she and Adrian were left together. 
“Show me all the ruins and tell me all about them.” 

Slowly they went from stone to stone and Flor- 

ence was pleased and awed, and at last tiring of it 
seated herself on a huge rock in the shade.. 

‘** How different were the lives of these men who 
lived here so long. ago from ours who are here to- 
day,” she said. 

‘* And yet perhaps they were as happy in their 
own way,” answered Adrian, as he lay stretched 
on the grass at her feet. 

‘‘They say it is part of one’s self Ae one’s sur- 
roundings,” she said, ‘“‘how different the idea of 
happiness is to different people. Ask the poet, the 
anchorite, the king, the slave, and ies: will all 
have something different.” 


99 AN ITALIAN INTERDICT, 


‘What is your idea of it,® Miss Harrington ?” 

‘‘T could not explain it,” she answered, ‘‘ but to- 
day I feel perfectly happy, it may be the air, it 
may be the glorious climate, it may be these ruins 
or all three together, and perhaps more, I don’t 
know and I don’t care to analyze it, let it suffice 
that I am so.” 

‘¢°’ometimes it makes one sad to see ruins such 

as these, it makes one wish one could do something 

or be something greater than other men.” | 

‘‘Have you felt so ?”’ : 

“‘T feel so often.” 

‘‘Then you should succeed; remember that 
greatness does not come for the wishing.” 

‘Tg anything as fickle as fortune” asked Adrian, 
‘think of how many enter the race and how few 
reach the goal.” : 


“Tf all that entered succeeded the victor would 


not be appreciated ; it is only when we have failed 
ourselves that we see and appreciate the greatness 
of others.” na 

Here they were interrupted by one 

‘‘ Where have you been ?’ he exclaimed, ‘‘I was 
looking everywhere.” 

‘‘ Just where you see us,” answered Adrian. 

‘‘Have your English friends gone ?”’ 

‘‘ They are as Rome where they are stopping for 
the Carnival.’ 


‘“‘Tt is time we were returning,” said Florence, 
rising reluctantly, ‘‘ Celia will be looking for 01 Faget 


‘©Qome this way,” said Tony. — 


bi Mie a 


AN ITALIAN INTERDIOT. 98 


They were at a plank almost perpendicular, 
Florence hesitated. 

~ “T cannot go down there? she said, ‘it makes 
me feel giddy even to look at it.” 

‘Give me your hand,” said Tony, ‘‘and I will 
help you.” 

Florence hesitated still and almost involuntar- 
ily looked at the Duke. 

He instantly stepped forward. 
“Let me help you,” he said, ‘‘ have no fear, you 
_ will be as safe as on solid ground.” 

She put her hand in his and Tony felt jealous, 
the first pang he had ever felt. 

Florence soon gained the ground in safety and 

they joined Celia, who was seated in the carriage 
waiting for them. : 

‘“How long you have been,” she cried, 
could not imagine what had become of you.” 
_ The drive home was without incident, Celia 

talking brightly to Adrian all the way, while 

Florence sat as one in a dream, even forgetting to 
_ answer Tony’s sallies with her musta spirit. 


‘*we 


CHAPTER IV. 


Adrian was in his own rooms of the palace— 
stretched full length on a divan, when Giovanni, 
once his steward, now valet, butler and general 
manager, came to him. 

‘*'We are at a low ebb to-day, my lord, the fare 
must be scanty, but as it is, what do you prefer ?”’ 

“Anything,” answered the Duke absently, 

‘‘Santa Maria! you must have some choice, to 
think of a Duke of Colonna coming to this, barely 
keeping soul and body together, is shameful.” 

‘‘T have told you over and over again, Giovanni, 
that you had better take a good place, you are old 
and need all the little comforts that I cannot give 


you, I have done all I could to get you out com- 
fortably, you must now look forward to Exe . 


starved but “y 

‘“Do you think I could ever leave you of my 
own accord, caro maestro ?”’ he said, as he laid his 
hand reverentially on the young man’s head, ‘‘no, 
no, to eat a crust here by your side is better to me 
tn a feast of kings.” 


‘“Perhaps we shall not have even the nhac 3 


always,” answered the Duke, sadly. * But, 


Se ee eee 


AN ITALIAN INTERDICT. 25 


Giovanni, listen to me, I expect company this 
evening, what can you give them?” 

‘‘Corpo de Bacco! company, and things at this 
pass ; dinner, company ; ah! caro maestro, if you 
were rich how your heart would delight in wide- 
spread hospitality, but Heaven help us, we have 
barely enough for ourselves.” 

**While there is a Colonna living, their doors 
will be open to guests,” answered the Duke proud- 
ly, *‘ that is their right.” 

‘*But we can do nothing without money.” 

‘* Sell something then.” - 

‘We have nothing, everything of any value has 
_ gone long ago, ah! caro maestro! can you never 
_ feel that you are poor ?” 

‘“‘T feel it only too well,” answered Adrian, a_ 
quick flush of annoyance passing over his face. He 
arose and paced the room. 

Giovanni watched him narrowly. 

‘Tf it is only a party of young fellows, I think 
we could borrow from Rinaldo over the way, 
enough to make out with.” 

“The silver candlesticks?” exclaimed Adrian, 
getting them down with feverish haste. ‘‘I had 
entirely forgotten them. Giovanni take these and 
see what they will bring.” 

‘“‘Santa Maria! they have been in the family for 
so many years, I could not sell those to save my 
soul.” 

**Do you refuse / Then I will take them my- 
self.” 

“The Duke of Colonna at a pawn shop, never, I 


°6 AN ITALIAN INTERDICT. — ; 


will take them at once. Oh, that I had ever lived 
~ to see the day we parted from the silver candle- 
sticks.” 

‘‘One moment, Giovanni,” and the Duke threw 
himself again on the couch, ‘‘I expect ladies, this 
is to be no ordinary feast, I wish everything to be 
the very best you can procure, spare no pains and 
with the candlesticks there will be no trouble.” 

‘Kat the candlesticks at onemeal? Impossible, 
why think of what we shall do afterwards.” 

‘‘T care not if we starve afterwards, but for this 


one day only I wish a feast fit for the gods. Spare 


nothing, and, Giovanni, open one of those bottles 
of old wine we have in the cellar.” 

‘““The Colonna wine! the gift of your end 
father from the French king! oh, don’t open that, 
some other kind will do just as well.” 

‘‘T will have that and no other, go now, Gio- 
vanni, leave me, I wish to be alone.” 

As the dinner hour approached the little Bae 
arrived, consisting of Celia and her husband, ENS 
and Florence. 

The Duke, who stood looking for. them, deheat: 
ed the aS bareheaded and after greeting the 
others turned to Florence. | 

‘‘T am so happy to welcome you here, Miss Har- 
rington,” he said, bowing gravely, ‘‘let me escort 
you to my house.” 

He looked so handsome and winning as he stood 
there in the sunlight welcoming his guests, that 
Florence’s eyes strayed to his face and rested there. 


‘‘How charming everything is,” she said, when 


sal 


AN ITALIAN INTERDICT. ees 


they found themselves inside, ‘‘ you have been 
almost selfish to keep it to yourself so long.” 

She looked around her as she spoke, a gay, care- 
less, happy girl, and as the Duke bent over her he 
felt a wild tumultuous feeling. overpowering him. 

She wore a bunch of narcissus and their fresh- 
ness and odor seemed to pervade everything. 

When the meal was announced they found the 
table the perfection of taste. 

“*My dear Adrian you have given us a most 
pleasant surprise,” began Celia, ‘‘ who would have 
thought you could have done everything so well.” 

‘“But when shall we see the pictures?” said 
Florence. - 

“ Afterwards,” answered Adrian. ‘We will 
_ take everything by turns.” 

“You must be lonesome here sometimes, ” said 
~ Celia. 
- Oh no,” he answered, ‘‘ when I am lonesome I 
go out and when I am tired it looks pleasant here.” 
_ “ How very ential, ” said Tony, who was 
by Florence. 
— **¥ou are very whe not to be Aidconton ted: é 
said Florence, turning to Adrain. 

“Oh I don’t know, I think I could be happy any- 
where if I lived like this, free as air. I might only 
have one room and that at the top of a house and 
it might have its compensations. Besides I would 


- gtill be in Rome what would it matter after all ?”’ 


‘But would you be as happy ”’ asked Florence. 
“Why not? We have only one life to live, so I 


A ee, ee 
- a? ae 


28 AN ITALIAN INTERDICT. 


think we are allowed to make that as. pleasant as 
possible.” 

‘‘' Where do you get such good wine ?” said Ales- 
sandro, ‘‘I have tried all over Italy and cannot find 
anything to compare with it.” 

“Tt was some I had, I think mysett it is very 
good.” 

‘“Very good! it is admirable, delicious.” 

‘* Miss aoe » said Adrian, turning to Flor- 
ence as they rose, ‘* your pale is about W be 
rewarded, my pickin es are here.” 

He threw open a huge door and Florence found 
herself in an immense space, the walls literally 
papered with paintings. 

‘© Are they all yours ?’ she sha iiaeree at lean 

‘* All,” he answered, smiling, ‘‘ do — think there 
are so many ?” 

‘* Many, it would take a lifetime to ore them 
all. You should never want for anything while 
you haye these.” 

“One cannot live altogether on pictures, ns 12 
said. 

“Tet us begin at the beginning. If I were an 
artist I should never wish to paint again after see- 
ing these masterpieces.” 

2 est seeing these emulates others to do like- 
wise.’ 


‘“T should think you would feel almost tempted 


to sell some of them, there are so many they must 
be almost priceless. ” 

‘“The last two that I sold supported me for over 
a year, but I can never sell any more now.” 


= 


se GS 


AN ITALIAN INTERDICT. 29 


‘* Tt is hard to part with them, I know,” she said. 

‘It is not that. Italy has passed a law that no 
works of art shall pass out of the country. This 
gallery has been open to the public for years, in 
fact the Colonna gallery is known all over Europe.” 

‘** But could you not sell them to some rich per- 
son who lives in Italy ?” 

“That would be allowable. It is not that they 
must not be sold as it is they must not leave the 
country.” 

‘*T think that is an unjust law.” 

‘“Itisa law that you Americans would under- 
stand, because it is to benefit the people. ‘Shall we 
go on the terrace ?” 

“One moment.. I feel as if I could scarcely tear 
myself away from here.” _ 

— And yet outside there is a glorious sunset.” 
- **One can see a sunset every day, but paintings 
such as these only once in a lifetime. They are 
grand. Come, I am ready now.” | 

When they gained the terrace the sun had set 
and only a glorious radiance filled the sky. 

“Ts not this better than any picture?” asked 

the Duke. ) 

‘‘Ah, how much better. After all Art in every 
sense is only a copy after Nature.” 

They joined the others and soon the hour came 
for them to return. : 

‘‘Have you enjoyed it in the least,” asked the 
Duke anxiously, of Florence, as he was helping 

her with her wrap. | 


30 AN ITALIAN INTERDICT. 


‘‘ Enjoyed it! It has been one of the pleasant- 
est days of my life,” she answered warmly. 

When they were gone Adrian wandered aimless- — 
ly from room to room, feeling over again the 
fascination and power she exercised over him, till 
by degrees the whole palace seemed sanctified by 
her presence. 


CHAPTER V. 


The soft Italian day was drawing to a close 
when Adrian, who was in his palace passing an 
idle hour, espied Tony from the window, and hur- 
ried to welcome him. 3 

‘*T am glad to see you old fellow,” he said, ‘‘ it 
is a long time since you were here. But some- 
thing is wrong, I see it in your face, what is it ?” 

“‘Something is very wrong,” answered Tony, 

“that is why Icame here. Adrian, do you think 
you have acted honorably to me.” 

‘‘ Honorably ! why what do you mean? What 
have I done?” 

“Done, you have been flirting desperately with 
Miss Harrington and turning her head with your 
soft charming manners. Do you deny this ?” 

‘“Was there any harm ?” | 
_ **Harm, when I have been trying for so long to 
win her, do you think you were right to interfere ? 
Celia invited her ‘here especially for me, and every- 
thing was going on satisfactorily till you stepped 

in and spoiled it all.” 

~  “T cannot understand yet what I have done,” 
said the Duke. 

— **Qan’t you see you are standing in my way ? 


32 AN ITALIAN INTERDICT. 


How can I make any headway when you are 
always monopolizing her? You are only amusing 
yourself, while I really care for her. Oh, Adrian 
how could you treat me so.” 

‘Does she care for you?” asked the Puke, 
slowly. 

‘¢She would if you would only keep out of the 
way and give me the chance. ‘Adrian we have 
been friends so long, surely you will do this for 
me—just keep out of her way until all is settled.” 

‘‘ And would you value a love won like that?” 
asked the Duke with supreme scorn. ‘* That is no 
love, if she cannot care for you enough now she 
never will; you cannot keep her forever shut 


away from other men. I think you are not sure 


enough of your own position in her regard if you 
fear rivals.”’ . 


“* Adrian, [ have come here to-day to ask you to. 


end this miserable fiirtation. It means more to 


me than you can ever guess. She likes you, is ; 
interested in you, and I cannot deny that you are 


handsomer than most men and fascinating, and 
have a soft manner, and Heaven only knows what, 


but nuetS is something about you that attracts 


women.’ 


_** About me! Tony you are écoeeemel compli- 
mentary, [ had no idea I was so attractive. Have 


you taken an inventory of all my charms ?” 
“You have not been my model for nothing. 

Promise me pa that you will leave the field 

open for me.’ | he 


Peeve NOTE EE See, Sevan cm Se 
Te EM SO WN, Bats ag to : 
ae, ee Pe Nee a ee p 


Tore ee the at ee a 
LN ne ELLY Cee ae Se ge 


yaaa Mapa e eane ok remie Nn Nits ol Sheree REN G* Mey" 
Se Ngee Re On eset ame i pan hen ye eS Ue rae  ae  O ay 

2 a Tes Sr i heieoy leery f a eat 
Pe IE BL See rea TAR a ae 


AN ITALIAN INTERDICT. 383 


~The Duke knitted his brow and paced up and 
down hisroom. Suddenly he paused. 

“For how long am I to do this ?” 

- * Until I can get it all settled.” 

**T will do it then, Tony, but remember, you 
must make it as short as possible.” 

‘*How can I thank you, Adrian,” said Tony, 

‘“you were my friend always and now more so 
than ever, since no woman can come between us.” 

Tony left the palace very well satisfied with 
himself, but Adrian paced up and down restlessly, 
striving to control his emotions. 

‘* Well, at any rate, if she cares enough for him 
to marry him I should be content; if she does not 
accept him there is still a chance for me.” 

While this conversation had been taking place, 
Florence had taken Alessandro aside in the studio. 

‘“T am going to ask you todo something for me,” 
she said, ‘‘and I hope you will not refuse me.” 

‘Refuse you, certainly not, what is it.” 

“First of all, I must pledge you to secrecy.” 

““A secret is it? Mustn’t I even tell Celia?” 

‘*No, not even Celia. Are you ready Lae 

Proceed. % 

‘*T have been to see thie Duke of Colonna’s Daa 
ings, I admire them greatly andI wish to buy one.’ 

‘‘They are very expensive.” 

*‘T care nothing for that. I will give you a check _ 
for any amount he names. Pick out the least val- 
uable one and tell the Duke to name his price.” 

‘‘But, my dear young lady, those pictures can- 


34 AN ITALIAN INTERDICT. 


not leave Italy ; and, another thing, he could not 
sell them to you.” 

“T have thought of all that and my plans are 
made to carry them out; you have only to do as I 
tell you. Go to the Duke, tell him a rich Ameri- 


can wishes one of his pictures, you pick out the 


one the American is:supposed to choose. Tell him 
it is to be sent here prior to your sending it away. 


My check will be drawn on my banker in London — 
and he will never know that I am connected with 


it, that is, if you keep your word.” 

‘That is easily done ; but have you realized how 
very much this will Cont you?” 

‘It matters little. Can you go soon?” 

‘‘T will go at once; but one more question. 
What are you to do with we picture when it 
arrives here ?” 

‘© You will find that out alt in good time.” 


‘*Then I will go, though I hope to be enlightened : 


some time as my reward.” 

‘‘ What are you saying to my husband?” asked 
Celia, putting her head in the doorway. 

‘‘ Nothing of any importance,” answered Flor- 
ence, smiling. ‘‘It is a home secret between us 
two.” 


‘“Then I shall expect to know it very soon for 


they say that a woman can never keep a secret.” 
‘*That all depends,” answered Florence, ‘‘ though 

I think that most of our old time sayings are suf- 

fering a change now, the philosophers have not 


yet learned the old proverb :—‘Let well enough 


~ 


¢ r = ee Seas 
a Ny Se on ee ene aie 
eave rer: * Se ee ee ee 


AN ITALIAN INTERDICT. 255 
alone,’ and sometimes upset some of our pet theo- 
ries.” . 

‘‘That is so but it is the march of the times.” 

**But it has been proved that women can keep 
secrets better than men,” said Florence. ‘‘ Look 
at the Russian women, how they do.” 

‘*Yes, poor things, and what grief they come to, 
for my part I would rather be an American,” said 
Celia, ‘‘ after all we have the best time of it.” 

**1T think none of us would be willing to return 
to the days of bondage. We have outgrown that ; 
think of the old Bible times and the women in 
them.” e 

‘“You were speaking rather slightingly of phi- 
losophers just now, pray Miss Florence are you not 
one yourself ?” 


“On the contrary, I prefer to leave Nature as 
she is.” 


CHAPTER VI. 


‘“‘Tony,” said Florence, one day as they were 
leaving the breakfast table, ‘‘come with meinto — 
the studio.” - , | X 

“What is coming now ” he asked, as he follow- _ 
ed her, completely mystified. _ 

She did not answer, but gaining the uli she 
sat as if wrapped in thought. pes : 

‘‘ What have I done?’ he asked, going over to 
where she sat, ‘‘ have I ofendat you and are you 
going to scold me ?” 

‘“‘Scold you, no,” she answered, ao have no right 
to take you to task.” - 

‘“Won’t you let me give you the right he a 
asked. | 

‘Don’t talk that way now,” abe implored, ay . 
will tell you what I brought you here for, it is to 
do me a very great favor. It is the a vnie r } 
have ever asked any thing of you.” 

‘Tell me what it is then that I can do it at once. “ 

Florence turned a picture around to the light. 

‘“Have you ever seen this before, Tone 2 she 
asked. OU AS ee a s 


AN ITALIAN INTERDICT. 37 


** One of the Colonna pn ee ! how did it get 
here ?” 

‘““Tt is mine, I have bought it.” 

“ How will you ever get it out of Italy ?” 

‘“That is where you are to help me.” 

‘*Me, I do not understand.” 

“It is very simple, listen. You are to paint a 
picture on a bit of canvas and then nail it on over 
this so that it will look like one of your own 
paintings.” 3 7 

_‘* And if we are caught ?” 

‘We must take our chances, though they are 
ten to one we will not be caught.” 

**Does the Duke know of this?” 

‘** He has no need to know anything, only that he 
has sold his picture.” 

“Why are you doing this, Florence? What is 
this picture to you except that it is Adrian's ? 
Why do you always think of him first? Why 
have you bought his picture and not mine. Oh, 
Florence, this has truly hurt me.” 

— ** Don’t be jealous, Tony, you are not in so much 
need as the Duke, besides, will you not help him ? 
He is your friend, you know.” 

‘“No, I will not touch that picture,” exclaimed 
Tony, ‘‘ till you tell me all there is between your- 
self and the Duke.” 

‘“‘There is nothing,” she answered. ‘‘ If I had 
thought you would have refused me so slight a 
thing I would have gone to some one else.” 

‘“‘ Stay, one moment, Florence, you shall not go in 
anger, and rather than have you angry with me I 


Ba: AN TTALIAN INTERDIOCT. 


would do anything you wish. Hear me, Florence, 
and do not turn away. I have been so happy since 
you have been here, I cannot tell you all it has 
meant to me, and seeing you day by day I have 


learned to care for you very, very much. I love — 


you Florence, it has been growing on me steadily 
till now it has almost mastered me. I love you 
and I want to ask you to become my wife.” 

Florence stood in the centre of the room, pale as 
death. The soft Italian breeze floated in laden 
with the scent of many flowers, but she did not 
heed it, she only shrank a little away from him. 

Oh, don’t, Tony: 

‘Don’t turn away from me, Florence, I think it 
would kill me now ; give me some promise, some 
hope that in time you will learn to care for me.” 

‘“‘Tt is impossible. Oh, Tony, I would have 
given worlds to have spared you this, but I can 
never be anything more to you than I am now.” 

‘But perhaps, some time you will learn to like 
me better, we have always been such good friends,” 

‘But friendship can never be love,” answered 
Florence. 

‘« And you would turn me away without a wear 
without a single word of sympathy when my eiele 
life is wrapped up in you. To me the sun shines 
only for you, the earth goes round only for you, if 


you had ever oe you would understand all that 


you are to me.’ 

‘“‘T can understand it only too well,” she said 
sadly. 

Ss Florence, ” he ae suddenly struck by the 


rod 


AN ITALIAN INTERDICT. 89 


hopeless look in her face, ‘‘is there anything be- 
tween you and the Duke?” 

‘*Why do you ask me that ?” 

‘* Because I have a right to know, if he has been 
playing against me; then I shall know what to 
do.” 

*“Have no fear ; the Duke would do nothing but 
what was most honorable.” 

**You speak warmly ; perhaps you have a high 
regard for him ?”’ 

‘*T have.” 

“May I ask why ?” 

‘* Because in a most trying, mortifying and un- 
_ pleasant position he bears himself most nobly.” 
~ **You seem to have studied him.” 

**T have only seen what no one could have BS 
seeing.” 
‘* Perhaps you are in love with him. Are you?” 

**T do not think I am required to answer that 


question to you or to any one until he asks me | 


himself.” : 
‘* And if he never does.” 
‘Then it will go unanswered.” 
Qh, Florence, can’t you change your mind ?” 
“T wish I could, for your sake, but it is impos- 
sible.” 
Heartbroken he turned to go, but his strong 
~ emotions conquered him, and he sank down ona 


couch and, burying his fice in his hands, was con- © 


vulsed ah sobs. 
Florence sprang to his side. During his love- 
scene she had remained cold and embarrassed, but 


AO AN ITALIAN INTERDICT. Rene 


at this sign of evident distress it was too real not 


to appeal to her at once. 

“Tony! Tony! don’t go on like that! Try to 
bear it like aman. Iam not worth your tears; it 
grieves me terribly to see you like this. I never 
Gee you cared so much.” 

“You might have known I cared for you.” 

‘*How should I? We were always laughing and 
chaffing each other.” 

‘‘T might have known you never cared for me. 
I tried my very best, but have failed.” 

‘‘It is not your fault, Tony; love cannot be 
forced. Some day you will marry some sweet, 
charming girl, and then you will forget all about 
me:”’ 

‘* Never !” 

‘“Oh, yes, you will. In the meantime don’t take 
it so much to heart. JI am sincerely sorry. We 
shall go back to our old relations as very good 
friends. Do you agree?” 


‘‘No,” he answered, ‘‘I do not want your friend- _ 


ship if I cannot have your love.” 
‘“Very well; you may refuse it now, but there 


will come a time when you will need and cherish 


it and not despise it as you do now.” 

Then she left him, and he sat for a long fine 
pondering on what ae had said to him, till, rising 
to pace the room, the Colonna painting caught his 
eye. He pulled out several canvasses and set to 
work. The picture he was painting did not occupy 
much of his thoughts, but as he got it under way 
anew, quieter feeling stole over him, and when it 


AN ITALIAN INTERDICT. Al 


was finished he nailed it over the original till no 
one could have detected it. 

Then the innocent painting, hiding this deceit, 
was sent out into the world and took its journey 
away from Rome, away from Italy, till it arrived 
at the steamer that was to take over to the new 
world the glory of the old masters. 


CHAPTER VII. 


And so the days went by one by one, quietly 
and swiftly till the day of the great March Gras ‘ 
arrived. ee 

Florence, who had been so reluctant to ciao was = 
persuaded by Celia to wait.a week longer. — ee 

On the morning of the great fete they left the i 
house early in a body. oo 

Celia saw at once that there was eae a 
between Tony and Florence, for beyond the usual ; 
courtesies they mutually ignored each other. It 
worried her a good deal to see it, and she spoke to 
her husband about it, but he ante said : © TLeave 
them alone, Celia, it is the better way. If they — 
have pnarrelien they will soon make up, and oune., 
lovers’ feelings are not to be forced.” ae 

“T hope it will come right in time,” anaweee his : ig 
wife, ‘“‘ but my mind misgives me, I. ape she has” ‘ 
not refused him.” <a 

- When they gained the see the ecu con-_ Eo 
fusion reigned, and it was with the utmost difficulty | ae 
that they forced their way through the motley — ‘ 
crowd to the stand ae as were. to see pen 
procession. 5 

The streets were full of action. lags fluttered, 


ow 
Fst 
Ne 


a 
4 


AN ITALIAN INTERDICT. 43 


it rained flowers and confetti, the air was filled 
with music. 

And the people ! no other place in the universe 
could boast such a sight. Men and women, in 
every style and fashion, elbowed each other with 
carnival good nature, while the merry making, 
and buffoonery was unlimited. One would almost 
suppose that reason and order had left the city and 
that confusion and pandemonium reigned in their 
stead. 

Florence saw it all and was watching it with 
breathless interest when some one behind her 
touched her and she looked around. - 

‘‘Can you be interested in Carnivals,” said the 
speaker, addressing her, ‘‘I lost my taste for them 
years ago.” 

Florence was frightened. She had never seen 
the speaker before but fancied that during a carni- 
val it was customary to speak to everyone. She 
turned slightly towards him without raising her 
eyes from the crowd. 

_ **Why are you so cold to me?” the stranger 
continued, ‘‘Italy seems-to have chilled your 
heart.” 

‘‘ Sir,” said Florence, ‘‘your attentions annoy 
me, pray cease them. I think you have made 
some mistake.” __ 

“Don’t be hard on me,” he pleaded, ‘‘ we Ameri- 
cans should stand by one another in a foreign land, 
_ but here comes the procession, they say the Duke 
of Colonna will make a divine Rex.” 


44 AN ITALIAN INTERDICT. 


“The Duke of Colonna!” exclaimed Florence, 
‘‘ surely you are mistaken.” 

But no, the procession came in view and the 
Duke, dressed as one of the once powerful Colonna, 
was seated on a dias a woman of surpassing loveli- 
ness by his side.. The flowers and confetti rained 
in showers over them and Florence in her excite- 
ment rose to her feet. 

As the procession passed by where she sat, the 
Duke turned towards her and two superb Italian 
roses fell at her feet. She stooped to pick them 
up with a face radiantly happy, and turned her — 
eyes towards him, but the procession was advan- 
cing rapidly and the Duke and his fair companion 
were already far out of sight. — 3 

“Where are they going?” asked Florence. 

‘*To the City Hall, to the ball, to the devil,” an- 
swered her companion. ‘‘ You are going to the 
ball, of course ?” | 

‘“T cannot tell,” she answered, as she turned 
away. 

‘*T shall look for you and shall know you through ~ 
any disguise ! ” 

The crowd was growing turbulent and Florence, 
seeing in the distance her party rising, rose too. 

‘*Don’t forget !” whispered her strange compa- 
nion. ‘‘ Why do you cies from me that mee | 
I would not harm you.’ 

Without heeding him, Floraabe turned away, 
and soon she and Celia were dressing for the ball. 

They were to be exactly alike, dressed in domi- 


AN ITALIAN INTERDICT. 45 


nos, though Florence wore her cherished white 
roses. 

The ball was ab its height when they arrived ~ 
and Florence, after taking a turn with Alessandro, 
was resting, leaning against the wall, when the 
Duke approached her. He was dressed in crimson, 
slashed with white, while a circlet of gold rested 
on his brow. 3 

‘*You got my roses then ?’ were his first words. 
sepa late you are, I thought you would never 
come.’ 

‘*Good evening, Rectus Publius, I hardly knew 
you in your new role; what do you rule ?” 

“The passing show, this is my kingdom erst- 
while. What do you think of our Carnival ?” 

‘*T think it is the most interesting thing I have 
seen in a long time.” . 

‘‘ Is it not characteristic? Ah! none but a true 
Italian cah understand it. Weare the only nation 
that goes heart and soul into a thing like this.” 

‘‘T can understand it too, a little.” 

‘‘ As an outsider, an on-looker, I am in it, it is 


- part of my very life. But let us dance, we are 


wasting time standing here.” 
- He led her to the centre of the room and they 
soon joined the other dancers. 

‘‘T am so glad you wore my flowers to-night,” 
the Duke said, as they paused, ‘‘it 1s as a good 
omen, white roses are the sign of hope, as we 
Italians are taught.” 

‘Hope is the divinest gift man can have,” began 


ot ek oad » oO a caren Sa bee a te 
e IZ a a ee Res 
. > AE a AP he is a 


46 AN ITALIAN INTERDICT. 


Florence, ‘but I think you hardly need it. What 


more could you desire ?” 


‘‘There are many things,” and he sighed. ‘*There 


was once a man who desired a rich jewel. It 
sparkled and shone in his sight and he wished to 
possess it. It was not to be bought with money, 
its value far exceeded that. How do you think he 
should have won it ?” | ra 

‘* He should have earned it,” she answered slowly. 
‘‘T think if he desired it very much every new 
obstacle in his path was so much more to over- 
come. Ifa race is worth entering it is worth win- 
ning, my lord.” 

The Duke looked at her cure He had not 
expected such an answer. Had she understood ? 
~ They walked slowly through several of the rooms. 

‘* How long does this last ?” asked Florence. 

‘“Till midnight. When the clock strikes all 


noise and revelry cease and everyone goes down on - 


their knees. It is an impressive sight.” 
‘* How well you know it all,” she exclaimed, *‘ I 


have learned so much since I have been here to- 


night. One should always see a people either in a 
great misfortune or a great festival, such as this.” 

‘We Italians,” he began, “have more feeling 
than other nations, we can enjoy this so much, 
and yet we can suffer much, too, and grandly.” 

‘‘That is because all laughter is very close to 
tears. Italy, like her people, is composed of two 
extremes, the light side being the palaces, the dark 
side the beggars. Is it not so?” — 

“You have spoken wonderfully but I must leave 


AN ITALIAN INTERDICT. 47 


you now, here is Alessandro. Will you let me take 
the flower of hope with me ?” 

‘Tf you will,” she answered, holding out one of 
the roses. 

“Not that,’ he Bee evcd: ‘*The flower I wear 
is invisible, and lies just over my heart.” 

When he was gone, Florence was watching the 
dancers when her unknown companion of the 
morning accosted her. 

“You see I am true to my word,” he began. ‘‘I 
have found you at last. Come let us dance.” 

Florence shook her head. | 

“What! You will not? What have I done 
that I should be treated so! You would not dare 
refuse that Italian ! ”. 

‘Sir, I desire you to leave me!” Florence was 
at her haughtiest. | 

*T will, then, but not till I have had my revenge. 
You may think he is in love with you, but he 
does not care a straw for you. I vowed once 
he should not get ahead of me. Don’t scream for 
Tony ; he is not here this time. I mean business, 
and you shall dance with me if I have to kidnap 
you to do it.” 

With this terrible threat Florence was thoroughly 
roused. Her companion came towards her and she, 
with disgust and fright and horror on her face, 
turned and with a quick movement glided out of 
the room. She looked behind her, saw that he was 

_ still following her, when with a sudden terror she 
rushed out of the door and flew down the street as 
if pursued _ all the furies. 


CHAPTER VIII. ¥ 


Florence once in the street felt the soft night 
breeze blow. upon her face. AJl was confusion. 
What earlier in the day had been mere fun had 
now degenerated into debauchery. Fires had been 
lighted along the streets which made it almost as 
light as day. 


For a time she ran on in mad haste pursued in 


her thoughts by the terrible man who had spoken 
to her. A careless word as she passed was the only 


notice the crowd gave her. At last overcome by — 


fatigue and out of breath she paused and glanced 
behind her. Her pursuer was nowhere to be seen, 
how foolish she had been, she would turn back 
and return to the ball-room. The air was growing 
chilly too. She turned and paced through the long 
Italian streets but they had an unfamiliar look, and 
after growing foot-sore and weary she stopped 
again, this time completely baffled. 


She was a girl who at all times had been accus- 


tomed to rely on her own resources, and now her 
courage did not fail her, though a strange, indefi- 
nite fear came over her. She resolved to wait till 
she met a policeman and get him to take her back. 

As she started again, a young boy accosted her. 


= ome 
* Vie 


AN ITALIAN INTERDIOT. 49 


‘“Where are you going, Signorita? You are too 
young and too pr etty to be out alone so late as this.” 

Without answering ‘she continued on her way, 
and a loud ringing laugh from a small group of 
bystanders followed. 

‘‘Cospetto, I shan’t let that young bantam crow 
over me,” said one of them, and with a leer that 
was meant to be fascinating, he turned to Florence. 

‘Have no fear, bella mia, I will protect you. 
Just to receive a glance from your eyes is reward 
enough.” 

“You are too mild, Rinaldo,” said the first. ‘I 
have not been in ne theatre for nothing. Listen 
to this.” 

‘* Signorita,” turning to Florence, ‘‘when my eye 
lights on your face and form it seems as if Venus 
had visited this sphere again.” 

‘*Who is ripe for a true Carnival jest?” ex- 
claimed Rinaldo, ‘“‘I am the mountain king, beauty 
such as this blooms best in mountain fastnesses, 
take her away.” 

- Florence, who up to this time had been as one 
completely stunned, suddenly roused herself at this 
last daring project. 

Her only escape lay in slipping away from them 
into the darkness. Either they guessed her design 
or knew it by intuition, for, with a sudden move- 
ment, Rinaldo sprang forward and three or four 
others joined hands leaving Florence in the centre 
of a ring and began singing at the top of their 
voices an Italian song, the refrain of which was : 


‘*Ta-ran, ta-ran, ta-ra.” 
b) ? 


50 AN ITALIAN INTERDICT, 


Florence covered her face with her hands and 
sobbed as if her heart would break. How would ~ 
all this end ? te 

All at once a voice she knew well sounded onher 
ear. 

‘“ What is all this? For shame! do you ae no 
better than to frighten an unprotected girl? Go — 
home, all of you, and find some better employment a 
for yourselves than this?” 

They reluctantly desisted and went singing down. 
the street, and when they had completely gone — 
Florence held up her head and encountered the 
Duke’s glance. ; 

‘‘Miss Harrington, is it possible ! |” he exclaimed, <7 
‘* How came you here?” = 

Welcome as he always was to her, he was pli: : 
go now. os 

‘‘T am lost,” she answered. ‘‘I was frightened ‘ 
in the ball-room by some one, so I ran out and ~ 
tried to get back again, but could not find my way.” — 

‘“And you have walked all this distance ects 
-my poor child !” | 

“Take me back ; I am so tir ed, and Celia will be | 
looking for me.” . 

‘“The ball is over now, and we are miles from — 
your home. Come with me ; it is only a short dis- — 
tance farther.” | Luar tae 


Va: 
= 


a, en A gel 
oa | ae OR MS re rte ren eens 


mi Paes eaasie 
re eet 


hae SU 
Ay? anit - 


eat 
a 


She obeyed mechanically. | : 
They proceeded in silence for a time til ree © it 
saw in alarm that the houses were growing farther __ 
and farther apart and they seemed to be on the 
outskirts of the city. She stopped suddenly, = 


ee wie a" sae OT 4455 m 
* ’ Bete eg a : . 


AN ITALIAN INTERDICT. S| 


**M. le Duc,” she began, almost imperiously, ‘I 
cannot go farther till you tell me where we are. 
going, it is growing late and we are on a very 
lonely road.” 

‘“‘Can you not trust me? We will be at our 
destination very soon, Signorita, have no fear. Do 
you remember how you trusted me on the plank 
that day? Did I not bring you over safely ? _Trust 
me now in the same way and all will be well.” 

She looked up at him. He was bending towards 
her earnestly, his dark eyes soft and tender and 
wistful, the golden circlet still on his brow, his 
beauty transforming him, while the noble, the 
proud, the chivalrous bearing won Florence. 

‘**T will trust you,” she said, ‘“‘ take me wherever 
you will.” 

They proceeded for some little time till the Duke 
stopped before the door of a tiny cottage and 
knocked. 

Presently an old woman appeared. 

“Qattarina, Cattarina,” exclaimed the Duke, 

**open the door quickly.” 

** It is the caro maestro,” said the old woman and 
with feverish haste opened the door and led them 
into a small but scrupulously clean room. 

Florence sank down exhausted, and Cattarina 
bent over her. 

**Poor Signorita! Poor child, she has praelicdl 
far, perhaps. I will get something to bathe her 
_ head.” — | | 
 ** Cattarina,” said the Duke, ‘‘the Signorita is 


59 AN ITALIAN INTERDICT. | 


weak and faint; have you anything in the way of 
food ?” ee eee eae | 

‘‘T have some gruel that I can warm up in an 
instant ; she shall have it as soon as it can be pre- 
pared.” — 

She bustled away to the kitchen. 

‘*Miss Harrington,” began the Duke, ‘** Cattarina 
is an old servant of mine. You are in good hands 


if you will stay here for the remainder of the 


night. I will go and tell your friends you are in 
safe keeping.” 

“Oh, don’t leave me here alone! I should much 
rather return home. What would Celia think ? Is 
there no way? Cannot you take me back?” 

*“T will try. Stay here and rest a De longer ; 
I shall not be gone long.” 

He passed out and Florence was left alone. Not 
for long, however. Old Cattarina returned with 
the gruel, coaxed Florence to take it as if she 
had been a child, then tried to persuade her to lie 
down ; then she put on her own hat and cloak, 


murmuring words ip herself of which the only in- — 


telligent ones were ‘*‘ caro maestro.” 
Presently the Duke returned, nodded to Cattari- 
na, and turned to Florence. 


‘‘T have a carriage outside ; come, you wil soon _ 


be home again, now.” 

Florence obeyed mechanically She and Catta- 
rina entered the carriage and the Duke closed the 
door as Florence murmured a faint ‘‘ thank you.” 

They passed through labyrinths of dark streets, 


AN ITALIAN INTERDIOT. _ 53 


strewn with the remains of the Carnival, and at 
last arrived at Celia’s. 

When the carriage stopped, the Duke opened 
the door again. How he got there Florence never 
knew, and soon she had her arms around Celia and 
they were all talking at once. 

*“Good-night,” said the Duke, extending his 
hand. ‘‘I shall drop in soon to see how to-night’s 
Carnival and your own venturesomeness affected 
you, Miss Harrington. Rinaldo and his companions 
came near getting the best of you. 


‘Ta ran, ta-ran, ta-ra,”’ 


do you remember ?” 

“Shall I ever forget !” answered Florence, with 
a burning blush. 

The adieux were soon said, and Florence, over- 
- come by sleep and fatigue, retired to her own room, 

~ feeling that for once in her life she had seen a Ro- 
man Carnival, and that since she had quitted it 
that morning a life-time had passed. 

Several days later, as she was sitting in the court, — 
Tony came to her. They had intuitively avoided 
each other since that memorable day when she had 
blighted all his hopes. 

He seated himself beside her in silence. 

Florence looked at him. He seemed pale, worn, 
and weary. All her woman’s pity was roused. 

* What is it, Tony ?” she said. 

‘* Florence, once you tendered me your friend- 
ship. I, like a fool, flung it from me, and you 


Ce 


54. AN ITALIAN INTERDICT. 


said—I remember it so well, how you looked when 
you said: ‘There will come a time when you will 
not despise it.’ Is it too late now?” 

‘‘T knew you would do this, Tony,” she answer- 
ed. ‘‘I can give you the most sincere friendship, 
_ but do not ask me for my love.” | 

‘‘ All that is past now. I was moved by mad in- 
fatuation, jealousy—I know not what, and I care 
not. Florence, you have given me your friendship 
and Iam going to put it to the test. J want you 
to help me as only you know how.” 

‘“‘Tt is about Miss Blount, is it not, Tony ?” 

‘“How did you guess it so soon ?” 


‘‘T am not blind. But go on; what is it you | 


want me to do?” 
‘*Oh, Florence, I have been so miserable ! Grace 
and I have had a violent quarrel. She was jealous 


and I got angry ; then she was angry, too, and al-— 


Gas I feel ashamed to look her’ in the face 
again.’ es 

‘Then you really care for her, Tony ?” 

‘Oh! so much, Florence. For our friendship— 
for my sake—go to her, tell her I am not angry, 
entreat her to make up with me; say anything ; 
use your utmost tact; tell her this miserable quar- 
rel must cease.” 

Florence paused a moment before she answered. 

‘Tony, you have asked for my friendship and I 
would willingly do anything for you ; but this you 
ask me, I cannot. This is no place for an outsider. 
Go yourself to Grace Blount; tell her what you 
have told me. She is waiting for you to do this.” 


AN ITALIAN INTERDIOT. DD 


‘*T will take your advice. Florence, you are an 
angel !” 

‘*Oh, no; not an angel,” she said, with a smile. 
‘Only a ae 3 


MT Lace eee ye 
Pe SS RGAE Se, Men pl cole 


* 
a 


CHAPTER IX. 


n 1 
vt 
a 


They were in the Colosseum one warm moon- . 
light night. They, consisted of Celia, Alessandro, a 
Tony, Grace, Florence and Adrian. a) 

After eee about admiring everything — 
they stopped to rest, and Florence, seated herself —_ 
in a wide embrasure of what had once been a 
window, while the Duke, leaning against the 
framework in the shadow, might well have been ee 
. taken for one of the statues of the place. =a 

‘‘ How beautiful this is,” said Florence, who was 
always affected by the subtle Italian moonlight, 
‘and to think I am going away so soon. Ah! 
how I shall miss it all.” ae 

The Duke started suddenly. 3 = oh ae 

“You going away, Miss Harrington ; “where 4 
could you go to ?” — ay 

‘““To my home, to America, you forget that Tam 
only a stranger here.” a. 

‘“But you have liked it here, are fond of Rome, a 
perhaps, are you not ? y 

“ Very fond of it and I can never forget all you ~ 
have done for me, particularly that night of ine 


AN ITALIAN INTERDICT. 57 


Carnival. I cannot fully express my thanks, I am 
very grateful, believe me.” 

“Will you promise me never to forget these 
times that we have been together, we have been so 
happy, it has been the greatest pleasure of my life. 
When I think how soon the memory plays us false 
it almost frightens me. One day I see you sitting 
before me here in the moonlight, the next, one 
hundred miles of ocean divides us and soon nothing 
remains, not even the ability to remember it all.” 
 “Ttisa pity,” she answered simply, ‘‘I should — 

like never to move from this spot, the moonlight, 
the shadows, the quiet of it all strikes right down 
to my heart ; I think I could sit here forever.” 

She was not looking at him but straight before 
her out in the moonlight, her clear, tranquil eyes 
dwelling lingeringly and almost caressingly on the 
scene. 

“Could you be content to live here always? 
Could you care enough for me to link your life to 
mine ? | . 

Florence rose and turned towards him. 

‘“What are you saying? Why do you ask me 
these things ?” — 

‘“T love you,” he said passionately. ‘Could you 
care enough for me to accept so worthless a crea- 
ture as lam and make me happy for the rest of 
my life?” 

He was bending over her and as she raised her 
eyes to his they were filled with tears. 

“You have done me too much One she said, 


58 * AN ITALIAN INTERDICT. 


brokenly, ‘‘what have I ever done to win so great 
a love?” 

‘“Then you will not refuse me, yo will ‘try to 
care for me a little ?” 


‘*T will give you all I have and all J am, my fu- 


ture, my life,” and more slowly, ‘* my love.” 

‘May God Mea me to keep them worthily,” he 
said, fervently, ‘‘ah, Florence you have made me 
more than happy to-day, I ask but one thing more.’ 

‘Tt is granted,” she said, smiling. 

He bent down and kissed her. 

‘*This is our betrothal, how the moon shines, it 
is a good omen, happiness will follow us.” 

‘* Tt could not be otherwise,” she answered. 


* * * * * * 


Several days later the Duke gave another of his 
small dinners at his palace. He had invited only 
those whom he and Florence knew best. When 
they were all assembled he rose and approached 
Florence. 

‘‘ Let me escort you, you are the euest of Hoe 
to-night, though Tony and Miss Blount think they 
have it all to themselves.” 

Tony and Grace had announced their engage- 
ment that very morning. 


‘‘T shall be looked upon as a regular matrimonial ae 


6é 


agent,” said Celia, ‘‘ all these engagements having 
taken place under my roof. I shall be besieged 
with mothers with marriageable daughters ; 1 might 
make quite a fortune out of it.” 


AN ITALIAN INTERDICT. 59 


‘‘ Florence,” said Tony to her, ‘‘ your advice was 
just what I wanted, I did just as you told me and 
it all came out right. You don’t feel jealous that 
you have only second place, do you ?” 

‘* How could I, Tony,” she said, ‘‘ I chose second 
when I might have been. first.” 

“Will you give us a toast?’ said the Duke to 
Alessandro. 

Whereupon he rose and proposed : 

‘‘' The three graces, as represented here.” 

Then, | 

**Kach to his own particular grace.” 

The toasts were drunk with much merriment 
_and in the middle of it Giovanni gave the Duke a 
card. He glanced hurriedly at it, then said : 

‘‘Friends you must excuse me a moment as 
important business demands my instant attention.” 

As he left the room Florence followed him with 
her eyes, and presently Giovanni returned and re- 
quested Alessandro and Tony to join the Duke. 

The meal ended abruptly. Celia and Grace held 
a low conversation but Florence waited in vain for 
the return of the rest of the party. Finally, curi- 
osity prompted her to look in and see what they 
were doing. 

She looked, and saw the picture she had bought, 
in the middle of the room, Tony’s canvas torn off 
it and on the ground. 

The Duke stood, deadly pale, while a man, 
strangely familiar to her, was saying : 

“You are all three to be put under the penalty 
of the law. You, my lord,” turning to the Duke, 


60 AN ITALIAN INTERDICT. 


‘for allowing this painting to pass out of the 
country ; you,” to Alessandro, “‘for aiding and 
abetting some dealer; and you,” to Tony, ‘for 
your share in this nefarious affair, for cheating the - 
Italian government.” 3 

‘‘ What does this mean ?” said Florence, sudden- 
ly advancing. ‘‘This painting is mine. J bought 
it and had it charged to my bankers. This gentle- 
man was my agent, and this one I forced to the 


— contrivance that has been discovered for taking it 


out of the country.” | 
‘You did this!” said the Duke, advancing. But — 
the official, with a wave of his hand, checked him. 
‘* Silence!” he said. ‘‘ Now young woman, who- 
ever you are, proceed. Am I to andere you 
thought out this design alone ?” | 
‘*T did, most assuredly.” 


e Ps you will pay the highest penalty ten this, ‘a 


as you are the instigator.” — 


‘‘She shall not,” exclaimed the Duke, ‘‘I pro- ee 3 


test——” 

**You have nothing to say, rendaenVee the law 
still Hee its clutches on you for your part in this 
affair.’ 

‘*He is innocent,” said Florence, ‘‘ you are accus- 


ing him unjustly, he had no idea that painting was _ es 


leaving the country nor did he know that I was 
the purchaser. You represent the Italian law, I 


think it would be better, if instead of accusing. — ca 
innocent persons you would inventsomelaw where 


Italian noblemen can gain a livelihood instead of — 


AN ITALIAN INTERDICT. 61 


starving, when one painting sold would feed them 
for more than a year.” 

Celia and Grace now came forward. 

‘Why, Mr. Felini,” exclaimed Celia, ‘‘is it you 
who is making all this trouble? I have not seen 


you since I have been married ; How have you 


been ?”” 

‘* Broken- Reacted: as usual, of course,” he ans- 
wered, ‘‘ when you deserted me.” 

‘*“T do not allow that now. I want you to meet 

my friend. Florence, this is Mr. Felini.” 
_ “T have never met him before,” she said, ‘‘but he 
has persecuted me enough during the carnival.” 
Turning to the Duke, ‘‘ this is the man I ran away 
from.” 

‘**Cospetto ! was that you ?’ exclaimed Mr. Felini, 
‘‘I beg you ten thousand pardons. I thought it 
was Celia all the time. You were dressed alike.” 
_ ** What are you going to do with me,” she asked, 
** does the Italian government imprison offenders ?’ 

**Sometimes, but you will escape with a heavy 
fine. You are the cleverest girl I ever met.” 

_ The Duke took up the painting and went to the 
gallery. Florence followed him. 

‘** Now that we two are alone together,” he said, 
‘‘T want to thank you for all you have done for 
me, you championed me most nobly just now too, 
it was more than I expected and more than my 
right.” 

“You yourself gave me that right, ”* she said, 
raising her head proudly, ‘‘the other night ey 
we were in the Colosseum ; do you forget that ?” 


62 AN ITALIAN INTERDICT, | 


‘© And to think I never should have known about 
the picture but for an accident. Oh, Florence, 
you must have cared for me very much even “then, 
to have risked so much. ‘Tell me, had you learned 
to like me even then ?” 

‘‘T cared for you always,’ 
ing at her own confession. 

“Florence,” he said, after a pause, ‘I have no 
ring to give you and you know why I cannot buy 
you one. Will you take these pearls instead ? 
See, they are fit for a princess. They are the first 
of my few possessions that I shall soon bestow on 
you. Ihave but two requests to make, first, that 
you wear my pearls, and secondly, that you call 
me Adrian.” 

He held to her a string of priceless pearls. 


” she answered, blush- 


‘‘They are indeed beautiful,” said Florence, a — 


little sadly, ‘‘but do you not realize that pearls 
mean tears ?” : 
‘‘We Italians say that they mean good wishes. 


Come, let me clasp them on for you; they are not 


whiter than your own neck.” 
‘*T am not afraid of tears with you to share them 
with me, nor of anything the future may bring 


forth. How often these pearls must have played 


a part in just such a scene as we are going through 
to-day !” 
‘*Many times indeed! Let me clasp fhe on for 


you. If every pearl were a good wish from me to- 


you, you would have strings of pa reaching to 
your feet.” 
He clasps them about her neck, eg she stands, 


és 


AN ITALIAN INTERDICT. 63 


smiling the while, happy as a gay young girl; but 
that circlet round her neck is the first bond placed 
there by the hand of love. She is no longer free, 
but if her chains are all so light and silken, and are 
covered by a jewel as priceless, she is indeed happy. 

No longer a gay and careless girl, but a woman 
standing on the threshold of the highest estate she 
can be called to, pausing, ere she enters, to cast a 
last retrospective glance on her vanishing girl- 
hood. 


The Prince of Voronzoff. 


The Prince of Voronzoff. 


CHAPTER I. 


“THE BETROTHAL.” 


It was the night of one of the large balls at St. 
Petersburg. The evening was far advanced and 
drawing to a close, for Sue UNEe temporal must 
have an end. | 

The music was rising and falling and its soft 
dreamy cadences fell soothingly upon the ear. In 
the conservatory, however, the music was heard 
but faintly, mingled with the sound of the plash- 
ing of many fountains. In that bower of perpet- 
ual summer, a young girl, tall and graceful, was 
seated, languidly moving a large fan to and fro 
and listening to the ardent words of her com- 
panion. He wasa man of middle age, dark and 
swarthy, whose haughty bearing, if nothing else, 
stamped him one of the nobility. Just at present 
he was trying to change his hauteur into some- — 
thing like supplication. 


‘Sl tee oS oe oa 

5 At tte ne “we 9 

ont ae OE ae 
é ; 


68 THE PRINCE OF VORONZOF®, 


‘‘Ah, Sonia, were you mine, my life would be 


turned into one eternal Heaven,” were his passion- 


ate words, ‘‘men call me rich and powerful, but 


were I to lay a kingdom at your feet I would deem 


Pg ~ ws eee 
JABS ff ¢ <3 toe one oe 


it small reward for possession of a jewel so price- ee 


less.” 
The young girl rose. 


‘‘These are wild words to address to such as I, 


' the Prince of Voronzoff flatters Sonia Valovitch.” 


‘* Flatters ! nay, flattery were not possible to use __ 
& ae 


to such as you, 1 am speaking my innermost feel- 


ings. I lay my heart, my soul, my fortune at your 


feet. I love you! Sonia, can you make this 
sacrifice for me ?” 


‘*Oh, Alexis, to become your wife will be my 
oa happiness though I am all unworthy of — 


you.” 

‘“My darling, ” and he kissed her on the forehead 
many times. The young girl looked at her lover 
with love as well as tears in her eyes. 


‘*'You are rich, so Sy rich, and I am sorry, it a 


spoils all the romance.’ 


“ And I am glad, dearest, for your sake, so very. 


glad, that now you shall share it all with me.” 


They talked on for some time longer, and when be 


they rose to leave the conservatory, Sonia touched 


Alexis lightly with her fan. She pointed to the 


decoration on his breast, given him by the Czar. 
‘* You have all,” she said, almost sadly, * ‘wealth, 


rank and honors, even this badge is a token of “a 


esteem.” 
‘*T think more of this decoration than of all the 


THE PRINCE OF VORONZOFF., 69 


rest, yet would they all count as nothing if with 
them I could not win the bride of my heart.” 

He extended his arm and they passed into the 
ball-room. — 
* Many an admiring eye was turned upon them, 
as the tall, graceful girl and the distinguished look- 
ing suitor passed through the rooms. He looked 
fond, triumphant, but Sonia Valovitch had a love 
beyond mere looks. She loved ardently, passion- 
ately, without rhyme or reason ; such love should 
-be only for immortals, for it brings to us poor 
earthly beings only sorrow and heart pangs, and 
the object who has awakened it little knows the 
heat of the fire that consumes all in its way. 


CHAPTER II. 
THE MARRIAGE. 


The courtship was all too short to both lovers, 
and as the time drew near for the marriage, both 
felt instinctively that they were leaving the hap- — 
piest period of their lives behind them. The cere- 
mony was to be performed very quietly at the home 
_of Alexis in the country, in the presence of a few 
friends, for the Prince’s mother was. paralyzed and 
desired to witness the marriage of her only son. 
Accordingly, on the day set apart for it,all was 
in readiness, and the friends and relatives began to oe 


assemble. 2a 4 
“The Count of Voronzoff !” was announced, and a 
as Alexis looked at the new-comer his brow con- 


tracted into a frown, his color heightened with 
displeasure, and, instead of advancing to greet his 
cousin, he only said in his cold, proud voice, with — 
additional hauteur:  . 7 

“Nicholas, how is this? In civilian dress! I 
had expected at least you would have done me the 
honor of appearing as befits your rank, “ ee 


THE PRINCE OF VORONZOFF. (aa 


»**My dear cousin,” answered Nicholas, with cut- 
ting emphasis, ‘‘ I relied on your hospitality of re- 
ceiving me here in whatsoever garb I presented 
myself ; I see I was mistaken.” 

Sonia stood by wondering what there could be 
about the young man to make Alexis so very rude, 
for at the first glance it could be seen that the two 
men inwardly hated each other, but Sonia only 
saw a young man, very tall, very dark and very 
handsome. 

‘* Alexis,” said Nicholas, “are you really going. 
to get married to-day ?” 

“Certainly,” said Alexis, growing pale, ‘“‘are 
you mad ? why should I not ?” 

‘“You should know best. However, since it is 
_ your will let it be done, I am the last to question 
it, the will of the Prince of Voronzoff is, as we all 
know, supreme.” 

_ Nicholas moved on, and Alexis, with clouded 
brow, turned to some new arrivals. 

“Don’t look so stormy, Alexis,” said Sonia, in 
her soft voice, when they were once more compar- 
atively by themselves, ‘‘who is your cousin, and 
why should he object to our-marriage ” 

** My cousin is the Count of Voronzoff, an officer 
in the imperial guards, the two branches of the 
family have always quarrelled with each other 
-since the days of the middle ages, the cause of the 
quarrel is forgotten but the quarrel remains, he is 
angry at my marriage because he is my heir and 
has always looked upon himself as such, now, my 
_ Sonia, forget him,” 


Yo ee Ca On Onna > 2 
NS hg ih Las ye rege a lar 


19 THE PRINCE OF VORONZOFR, 


Much as Sonia tried to obey Alexis, Nicholas 
came again and again to her thoughts with a mix- 


ture of curiosity and fear. But she was destined ~ 


to see more of him, for after the ceremony he was 
with them again. 

‘*My cousin should be the happiest of men for 
having procured so lovely a bride, you must not 
indulge oe too much or he will be quite spoiled I 
assure you.” 


‘*T am afraid it will be just the other way and — 


that he will indulge me too much, » Sonia ans- 
wered. 
‘‘Such a thing were not possible, sf than he said 


in a lower tone and rapidly, ‘‘you must get Alexis 


to bring you to St. Petersburg next winter.” 


‘‘Alexis has already planned where to spend the | 


winter without the help of his thoughtful cousin,” 
answered the Prince, with a sneer. — 


‘‘Then I can prophesy your winter will be a 


most pleasant one, for whatever the Prince plans is 


sure to be most charming,” and with a low bow 


Nicholas passed on in the crowd. 


CHAPTER IIT. 
BEHIND THE SCENES. 


The guests were now departing one by one, until 
finally the last had gone and darkness had shut in 
upon the scene. 

The mother of Alexis called Sonia to her, and 
taking her fresh young face between her thin, frail 
hands uttered a fervent blessing. ‘‘ This is the 
happiest day I have had for many years, and I 
thank God I have been preserved to see Alexis 
married to one so worthy of him.” 

‘So much above him you mean mother,” said 
Alexis, ‘‘Sonia is not to be compared with ordinary 
mortals.” : 

‘*T have no doubt that Sonia is all she should be 
and more too,” answered the mother, ‘‘all I ask 
of you, my dear, is to be good to my boy.” Sonia 
blushed with all this praise, and kissing the old 
lady a warm good night she and Alexis were left 
alone. | 

“Sonia,” said Alexis, coming over to where she 
sat, “this has been the happiest day of my life. 


74 THE PRINCE OF VORONZOFF, 


I have one request to make to you. Will you not 
play for me ?”’ 

She went to the piano and soon the soft melodi- 
ous strains of the sR Mozart re-echoed 
through the room. 

Sonia played for some time as one ina dream, for 
her thoughts were following the events of the day, 
and soon she left the piano and seated herself on a 
‘ stool at her pea feet. 

‘Your cousin,” she began, hesitatingly, % N icho- * 
las, why were you so cross to him to-day ?” ; 

‘‘Happy Nicholas! to be so much in your 
thoughts ; have I not already told you there exists — 
an old quarrel between our families 2” : 

‘“Yes; but even so, what does it avail to be Rept 
up so year after year? Oh! Alexis, for my sake — 
give up this quarrel, go to your cousin and tell him 
you forgive him everything and will be friends 
with him, begin this new life with this resolution, — 
and you will never regret it. If you would please 
- me, let this miserable feud you neither understand 
come to an end.” 


‘‘Sonia!” said Alexis, in surprise, ‘“what are 


you saying? You do not understand si things: . 
' What you ask is altogether impossible !’ 
‘And you will not grant my request?” — | 
‘‘T cannot. Listen, Sonia; I will explain to you ~ 
some things and, remember once for all, this is the. 


last time I ever-want my cousin or the quarrel re- 


ferred to again in my presence. I may as well tell 
you, Sonia, as you are one of the family now, what — 


my cousin’s character really is. Heisavery hand- 


Fi 


~ 


=a”. ae Ge Set? Bee >) 
ee te > 
ete 2 ~ 


THE PRINCE OF VORONZOFF. 75 


some fellow, it is true, but so wild! I will spare 
you a detail of his escapades, but what is your 


opinion of a man who, although he passes for a 
single man, has actually a wife and children ?” 

‘CA wife?” 

‘A real, true wife. He was married to her by 
all the laws of Church and State a little more than 
a year ago, and supports her on the Voronzoff es- 
tate. Weare a proud race and can ill brook such © 


a thing, though of course we keep it a secret as it 


would bring dishonor on our name.” 

** A wife and children,” murmured Sonia. 

‘“‘T have only told you this to warn you of him ; 
you must not mention it to a living soul. Even 
my mother, on account of her delicate health, is 
ignorant oe it; the aber ee would kill her out- 
right.” 

**T will never betray your confidence, Alexis. It 
is almost too horrible to be true.” And with this 
Sonia bade her husband good night and retired to 


her sleeping apartment. 


Alexis sat fora long time before the fire, after 
his wife had left him, evidently in deep thought. 

‘Ah! now my cousin, the Count, you may have 
laid your plans well; but, I flatter myself, I am one 
too many for you,” and so saying the Prince of 
Voronzoff retired for the night, 


CHAPTER IV. 


PRINCE AND PRINCESS. 


A year had passed, and Sonia and Alexis found 


themselves again at Danilovski. A year which —— 
had brought only happiness to this loving pair, and — dele 
when Winter came again Sonia presented her hus- eS 


band with a little son. 

It was Spring, and Danilovski looked at its best, 
just putting on its verdant, mantle. The family 
is assembled in the breakfast- room, breakfast is 
over, Alexis is looking out of the window, his 
mother looking over her correspondence, Sonia 
reading the newspaper. 


‘*T declare it feels almost like Summer itself! 199 


said Alexis. ‘‘Sonia, I hope soon to convert you 
into liking this beautiful spot better than your dear 
St. Petersburg.” 


‘‘T am afraid, then, you will have to make it 
very attractive for me. St. Pelee admits of 


no rival !”’ 
‘‘That is a point, then, on which we diten To 
me, St. Petersburg is a place only to work in. 


While I am there, I am busy from morning till a 


THE PRINCE OF VORONZOFF. cy 


night; while here, you have nothing to do but 
watch the progress of nature all day long. But 
how is this ?” taking a note from the floor. ‘‘ Mer- 
ciful heavens!” turning suddenly pale, ‘‘it is in 
Nicholas’s handwriting. What can he want here ?” 
and he glanced almost involuntarily at Sonia. 

“What can this mean? he says: ‘ Your favor 
just received, and I shall be with you on the 
eleventh, it isso kind of youto remember me.’ Bah, 
I have no patience with him,” and Alexis tore the 
paper into countless fragments and a them 
upon the floor. | 

‘* Alexis,” pleaded the feeble voice of his mother, 
- “listen to me for a moment, I have asked Nicholas 
to come and spend a few weeks with us, Poleska is 
coming and you know he always had a fancy for 
her.” 

‘*T don’t care, he can do his love making any- 
where but in my house, and it was very wrong in 
you to invite him here knowing as you do my 
opinion of him.” 

‘“‘ Alexis, Alexis, do not speak like this, I had 
hoped to bring you together again, your father was 
anxious to heal over the breach, but, he died before 
it was accomplished.” 

With this the mother sighed and was ween 
away for she could not walk. 

_ As soon as her attendants were gone, Alexis 
turned to Sonia, ‘‘ Sonia, remember what I told you 
of Nicholas, he is a man no one can trust too far, 
he is about to become an unwelcome guest beneath 
our roof, you will have to treat him as if you had 


WI cca Se ag een all eet ee Ce ae ys 
eee ue ee eS te SReeiol Ps 
pe oe eee 


78 THE PRINCE OF VORONZOFF. | 


heard nothing at all against him, don’t be cold and 
distant to him, treat him just as you would any 
other, only this, you cannot be too careful not to 
let him even suspect you know his secret, if you do. 
we are ruined, there is no tellmg what he would do.” 

Alexis said this with so much genuine feeling 
that Sonia laughed merrily. | 

‘“My dear Alexis, one would think you were 
really afraid of Nicholas, from the way you talk.” . 

‘“‘ Afraid of him ?’ said Alexis, nervously, “* why 
should I be? I, that is, how ridiculous, what has 
the Prince of Voronzoff to fear from such as he,” he 
added with his usual hauteur. 

But here the baby was is brought i in and Sonia ae we 
him in her arms. 

‘You have not seen our bale yet to-day, Alexis,”’ 
she said, ‘‘is he not a bright little fellow ?” . 

‘“Oh, I suppose so,” said Alexis, a “Tam 
not a dee of babies.” . 

‘Do you not want to hold him ? see, ‘a8 hbtle. = 2 
fellow wants to go to you ?” 

‘*T hold him,” said Alexis, with ill hipred: sur- 
pr ise, ‘* I don’t sere: how to conde an infant, even — 
if he is the future Prince of Voronzoff.” — 

And he turned and left the room, 


CHAPTER V. 


CONSPIRACY. 


Nicholas was seated in his small apartment in St. 
Petersburg, enjoying one of his few hours of lei- 
sure, when the servant announced, ‘‘A gentleman 
to see you, sir.” 

‘*Show him up,” said Nicholas, rising. 

The visitor entered, a tall lean man, who looked 
as if he belonged to one of the lower classes. 

‘*T am sorry to trespass on your valuable time, 
Count,” he began, ‘‘but affairs can rest in their 
present state no longer, something must be done.” 

** Well, I have done all I can, Ivan,” answered 
the Count, wearily. , 

‘“‘Look here, Count, you have always been 
friendly towards me and I don’t want to make a 
scandal, but, I declare if something is not done my 
poor sister will starve, what right have high-born 


to marry the like of us if they are ashamed of it 


afterwards, I have half a mind to go the Prince 
of Voronzoff myself.” ) 

“You must not do that, indeed you must not,” 
exclaimed Nicholas, ‘“‘he must not hear another. 


80 THE PRINCE OF VORONZOFF. 


word of this, remember you are bound to secrecy, 

come, name-your sum and I will pay it we 
for peace.” 

The man named a sum and Nicholas counted Si 
the money and threw it across the table. _ 

‘May the good Lord preserve you,” said ee 
man fervently. 

‘Come now, none of that, Ivan, remember your 
God and mine are not one.” 


‘*T wish you, Count, who are so good in so many 


ways, could be drawn more towards God.” 


‘You weary me, Ivan,” said Nicholas, languidly, 


‘‘ how often have I told you that to me there is no 
God.” areas 

‘‘Heaven forbid! sir. Good night.” 

‘‘T am rid of him for one month at least,” sighed 
Nicholas as he put on his cloak, and soon his steps 
led him far from the courts of fashion into the 
gloomier thoroughfares of want and depression. 


He entered a small house that had been the scene © 


of many conspiracies and several more men like 
himself worked all night to accomplish their de- 
signs. In the early gray of the morning Nicholas 


walked home feeling more than seeing the beauties — 


of the early spring morning, and he heaved a sigh 


as he thought of the millions of souls languishing — 
in Siberian dens powerless, and at the mercy of 


only one human being ‘like themselves, for a Ozar, 
be he ever so mighty, is still only a man after all. 


CHAPTER VI. 


THE PRINCE’S HEIR. 


The day came for the arrival of the Count of Vo- 
ronzoff at the castle. Poleska was already there, 
and she and Sonia became friends at once. 

It was a warm Spring afternoon, and the little 
group did not have to wait long for the new arri- 
val. Soon the horses were heard on the road, and 
in another instant, as they drove up at full speed 
to the door, Nicholas sprang out with agility and — 
stood on the threshold, an unwelcome guest. Sonia 
stepped forward. 

“You have arrived just at the moment,” she 
said. ‘‘Such exactness is surprising.” 

*‘You are not accustomed to military men,” said 
Alexis. ‘‘They are compelled to be always on 
time, you know. But come in, Nicholas ; we must 
not stand here.” 

They entered the drawing-room, and as they ad- 
vanced, a young girl arose and greeted’ Nicholas. 

‘How do you do, Nicholas ; you have not for- 
gotten Poleska Mikaelovitch ? » 


89 THE PRINCE OF VORONZOFF. . 


‘Forgotten you, Poleska ; that were impossible ! 

I might not have recognized you, though, you are 
so much of a young lady.” 

‘“And do you regret it ?” 

“Regret it, no! It is useless recalling the past. 

I only hope he young lady will fill the place of the : 
little girl I knew and played with.” 

“That you may tell me one month from now, 3 
but come, Sonia is pouring you out a cup of tea.” 

This was the reception Nicholas received, no one — 
bade him welcome, no one said they were glad he 
had come. 

He slowly drank his se Sonia uaa atchita vee 
once or twice with a feeling of dislike mingled with 
fear. 

“You have come to a very quiet place, Nicholas,” 
said Alexis, in his cold, hard tone, ‘‘I fear you will 
find it hard work to pass your time.” | 

‘*T am not afraid of that,’ answered Nicholas’ | 

‘“any place the Prince of Voronzoff delights in 
will surely find favor even with me.” 

Alexis looked at his cousin and bit his lips, ae | 
as he hated him he felt Nicholas had the better of — 
him. 

‘“ And now,” said the Count, as he finished ee 
tea, ‘1 should like, above all things. to see the BON. om 
and heir, may I, Sonia 1” : ey 

Sonia idok ad at Alexis. | ce. 

“Well, I, what do you think, Alexis (Maia ee 

** Cer fainle. have him brouene * then turning to ~ 
the servant, ‘‘the Count of Voronzoff desires to see _ 


am i ke Fe ee te Mle ie ao i 
Parte Sc Bi ae | 
Pan — 


Shits: THE PRINCE OF VORONZOFP. 
the child, tell the nurse to bring him without de- 
lay. ” 


The child was brought and the nurse car ried him | 
straight to Nicholas, who took him in his arms. 

Sonia felt a pang when she saw the helpless in- 
fant in his arms; Alexis, though evidently proud 
of his little boy, seldom took any notice of him, 
always giving as his excuse—‘‘ he knew. nothing 
about babies,” and here was Nicholas holding the 


child with no ungentle hand, yet this little morsel 


of humanity was the only obstacle between him — 
and the title he had looked forward to. 
He gazed at it for some time in silence, then 


handed it back to the nurse, saying at the same 


time to Sonia, ‘* Poor little fellow, he looks delicate, 
he is named Alexis, of course.” 

‘* No,” said Sonia, ‘‘ Alexis did not want the child 
named for him so I called him Sergius, I did 
want to name him Ivan, but Alexis said he had 
unpleasant associations with the name.” 

_ Both men started. 

‘‘Why, Sonia, where did you get that idea ?”’ 
asked Alexis. 

“Why you yourself told 1 me so?” said Sonia, sur- 
prised. 

‘Did I, well, then, or course I meant it.” 

‘Very likely 2 ae Nicholas. . 

.‘* What ?’ asked Alexis, sharply. 
‘“‘T only said that what the Prince of Voronzoft 


_says he means.” 


CHAPTER VII. 
THE NIHILIST. 


‘*Sonia,” said Alexis, when they were alone, ‘“‘T 
did not like the way you treated Nicholas, why were — 
you so distant to him ?’ | 

‘* Distant, was I, Alexis, [am sorry if I displeased 
you, but after what you told me of him I could not 
do otherwise.” 

‘* Merciful Heavens,” exclaie Alexis, ‘‘ are you 
still child enough to show a person you do not like 
them ?”’ 

‘“‘T always show my feelings, Alexis, I PATROL 
help it.” 

‘Well, now, I am sorry I spoke to you, forget it — 
my Sonia, my cousin is one of us now, for a time 
at least, he is very fair on the surface but in his 
heart the Count of Voronzoff is an atheist and a 
schemer, he owns to no God and even turns against 
the Czar.” | 

‘“Thank you, Alexis,” said Nicholas, entering, 
‘‘for giving Sonia so good a description of me. I 
hope she realizes what a really bad man I am.” 

‘*Then you own it ?’ she said. 


THE PRINCE OF VORONZOFF. er oe 


a Berainty, I do, it would not make me less bad 
to hide it.” 

‘“ But you surely are not an atheist ?” 

“That is rather a strong term, but it is true that 
I acknowledge no God.”’ 

‘*How dreadful,” sighed Sonia. 

‘“Ts he not a terrible man,” said Alexis smiling, 
fortunately there are few like him.” 

‘“‘ And do you not like the Czar? Are you really 
cs fen ene 

‘A Nihilist,” answered Nicholas, ‘‘ yes, I am a 
Nihilist.” 

‘* You have it from his own lips,” said her hus- 
band. ‘‘ You may be comparatively safe now, but 
there is one place where all such go, most inevita- 
bly,” : 

‘“ Where is that ?’ asked Nicholas. 

‘* Siberia,” answered Alexis. 

At the mention of that dreadful place both men 
shuddered, then Alexis said, ‘‘ Nicholas, you must 
not tell my poor wife any more about yourself, she 
is not prepared for so much depravity,” and with 
these words he left the room. 

“T would not like to think you altogether des- — 
pised. me,” said Nicholas, in a tone it was well 
Alexis did not hear, for Nicholas could be very 
fascinating when he chose. ‘‘ Force of circum- 
stances have made me what I am.” 

Sonia looked at him for some moments in silence, 
then said earnestly, ‘‘ but you will not be always 
like that, it would be dreadful, you will ee to be 
_ better, will ie not ?” 


86 THE PRINCE OF VORONZOFF. 


‘‘1 fear I can never change now, Sonia.’ z 

‘‘Oh, don’t say that, perhaps if I helped you a 
little, may I? I don’t halieee I could convert you, 
but won’t you give me leave to try.” — | 

‘Certainly, you may try as much as you tes 
but you will find it a difficult task. Iam adamant.” 

‘We shall see,” answered Sonia, gaily, ‘‘ you 
may laugh, but I think it is just what you need.” — 

‘Tt is just what you need,” murmured Nicholas, 
when she had gone. ‘‘Just what I need, well, 
perhaps so, but, Sonia Voronzoff, you do not know 
me yet, the only way to my soul, if I have one, is — 
through my heart, and that, alas, has gone for- 
ever.” - Whereupon he fell into a reverie deep and 
long, and the young officer’s thoughts were tinged — 
with sadness as he reflected on his past life. : 


od 


CHAPTER VIII. 


SONIA’S INFLUENCE. 


Nicholas was thrown much with Poleska during» 
the weeks that ensued, and if he treated her only 


as a friend it was apparent to all eyes save his, that 


she was beginning to look upon him with a warmer 
regard. 

The Count had long ago buried his heart, and 
now his head told him that Poleska would make 
him an excellent wife, being young, accomplished 
and beautiful. 

One warm Summer’s. afternoon he took a walk 


_ to think over-these things. He was in a thought- 


ful mood and particularly wished to avoid meeting 
Alexis. ) . 

He was walking slowlv along one of the rural 
janes when he perceived Sonia seated on a fallen 
tree trunk with a little book in her hand. He had 
hoped to pass by her unnoticed but she perceived 
him and exclaimed, *‘ Nicholas, do you not know 
me? Come over here and talk to me, are you going 


' to pass me by ?”’ 


88 THE PRINCE OF VORONZOF®. 


Nicholas seated himself on the fallen tree, and 
after awhile remarked, ‘*‘ What brought you out 
this hot Summer’s day ? it seems to me it were 
better for you to be home with your husband and 
child than sitting by the wayside like this.” 

‘“My husband and child can spare me these few 
hours, I think,” answered Sonia, with hauteur. — 
“They are not given over to idleness, I assure you. 
I have-been hard at work, and am resting a few 
moments before Church begins.” | 

‘‘And what is there to work at?” asked the 
Count, looking up and down the road. 

‘““T have all my poor to visit. They are so grate- 
ful and kind it is a pleasure to serve them.” 

‘But do you not think you could do more good 
to those around you than running after OOF pea- 
sants ?” nS 

‘Those around me do not need: help.” 3 

‘*Some do, myself for instance ; I need your help — 
badly.” | 


“Tell me how, any I will help you if it lays 


within my power.’ 

‘Well, then,” began Nicholas, ‘‘my life, my de- 
sire, my everything, is fixed on obtaining Poleska 
for my own. I have waited all these long years, 
hoping that by look or word she would show me 
that I had not hoped in vain. Oh, Sonia, you do 
not know how much I desire this! Help me to 
gain a wife—help me to win Poleska—and the hap- 
piness you will confer upon me’ will be ten times 
greater than that of your poor peasants.” , 

‘“ Nicholas, | am sorry you should have spoken 


- f 
THE PRINCE OF VORONZOFF. 89 


of this to me, and more sorry still that I shall not 
be able to help you.” j 

“Cannot help me? Oh, Sonia, do not tell me 
that! In what have I failed? Give me some rea- 
son for this!” 

‘**T cannot ; your own conscience should tell you. 
Tam sorry, I find Iam SHAS UO Reais in you, I had 
not believed you capable of this.” 

‘““Oh, why this mystery? Tell meall. Is it my 
Plicion, my politics, my manner, what? Oh, tell 
me that I may change.” 

“You have done yourself a permanent wrong. 
You haveemy greatest sympathy. Surely you 
know to what Iallude. Think, analyze your posi- 
tion and you will realize that this marriage is im- 
possible.” , 

‘You speak in mysteries. Sonia, tell me what 
it is you are alluding to. What have I done ?’ 

‘‘Don’t ask me these questions, Nicholas, for in- 
deed I cannot answer them. There; the church 
bell is ringing, I must leave you, or perhaps,—that 
is,’ growing embarrassed, ‘‘ you would not care to 
~ come too ?” | 

“To your church ?” 

_ ** Yes, the service is just beginning.” 

Nicholas looked at the hot dusty road, the sun 
streaming down, then at the cool shady porch of 
the church, which looked porary inviting to 
him. 

‘I will go, Sonia,” he said. 

They entered the simple village edifice. Few 
people were assembled and the whole aspect of the 


90 THE PRINCE OF VORONZOFF. 


place was one of peace. Insensibly Nicholas, who 


had entered harassed and perplexed, felt, as the 


service proceeded, a quiet tranquility steal over 
him, and he glanced more than once at his com- 


panion whose whole soul was in her devotions, and 


he felt a sudden respect, reverence for the piety of 


the woman beside him. He felt drawn towards 


her as toward a superior being. He had seen 
many women in the gay Russian capital, knew all 


their intrigues and artifices, but he felt how far 


Sonia was above them all. 


The short service was soon over, and the priest. 


repeating the words, ‘‘May the blessing of the 


Lord our God be upon you,’ ” the congregation rose | 


_ to leave. 


They walked on in silence for some time. Then — ; 


Nicholas said : 
‘Your church is’a great comfort to you, is it 


not? You always feel happier when you have ~ 


been there?” 


‘Ah, yes indeed. Oh, Nicholas, you do notun- 


derstand it, but I wish with all my heart you 
could be ial once more to become a Christian ‘and 
ai? 


I admire it in others.” 


That same evening, as the Count was eee aa 
in the garden, he overheard a conversation between a 


the Prince and his wife. 


‘*T cannot allow you,” Alexis was saying, witht » 
his usual hauteur, “to mix with the villagers, asI 
hear you have been doing this afternoon. They — 


‘“Tt is impossible ; I can never change now, but a. 


: Mee ea ee Oe ek ee Y 


ike ile Ss 
iar 


THE PRINCE OF VORONZOFF. 91 


are a dirty, lazy set and do not need your interfe- 
rence. Remember that you are the ‘Princess of 


~- Voronzoff ’.” - 


‘*But, Alexis, they are good, deserving people.” 

‘* Not another word more,” interrupted the Prince, 
imperiously, “‘If you do not care enough to main- 
tain your own dignity, remember my are my wife, 
if nothing more.” | 

The cold metallic accents fell upon Nicholas’ ear 
as he moved away. 

‘‘The Prince of Voronzoff is a splendid title to 
hold,” he muttered, ‘‘ but a cold, heartless man can 


never make an affectionate husband. Ah, Sonia, 


marriage is a lottery. Let us hope you will never 
fare worse than you do now.” 


CHAPTER IX. oe 


CASTE. 


Sonia, Alexis, Poleska and Nicholas were all 
seated on the terrace in the soft Russian sunshine. 


Conversation turned on village matter s, and Alexis — 


was saying : | 
‘““The church is getting on nicely now. I am 
- glad to say the priest was here this morning and 


thanked me for my donation. If everything was 
accomplished as easily as that nowadays there 


would be no trouble nor worry. Just hand the 


priest a certain sum, tell him to use it well, and 


he will tell you you will be pardoned for all your 
sins, and are sure of a future reward.” — 

“You should not jest on such matters, Alexis,” 
remonstrated Sonia, ‘‘ Remember who giveth unto 
the poor lendeth unto the Lord.” 

‘Tam not jesting, Sonia. No one cares more 
for the church than I do, and I think it is the duty 
of everyone to give what they can to support it, see 
all we lavish on our poor earthly bodies. Should 
not our souls be saved also ?”’ : 


‘‘ How good and religions Uncle Alexis is,” said — 


THE PRINCE OF VORONZOFF. 93 


Poleska to Nicholas, ‘‘ the church would go to ruin 
without him. Why are you not as good as he ?’ 

‘It would take a long time for me to grow as 
good as he is,” answered Nicholas, sarcastically. 
‘* He is a model in every respect.” 

“Tam glad you appreciate the fact, Nicholas,” 
said Alexis. 

Here the baby was brought out, Mah Poleska 
took him in her arms and seated her self at a little 


Ar distance. Nicholas watched her some time before 


he joined her. 

‘*Do you often take so much trouble to amuse a 
baby ?” he asked, standing behind her chair. 

‘Ah, no; not all babies, but Sergius is one of my 
admirers. I cannot afford to lose any of them, you 
know.” 

“You have so sD Any, I do He think you would 
miss one or two.” 

‘Perhaps not; it all Bape: on who they might 
be. You could not expect me to care for them all 
alike !” 

‘‘T suppose not. If Sereiie and I are to be ri- 
vals, I give the ence to him and will drop out 
of the list.” 

“That would leave us broken-hearted, would it 
not, my Sergius ?” 

a I wish, Poleska, you would be sincere with 
me,” he said, earnestly. 

c Would you rather I say I care notine for you, 
then?” . 

‘“‘That would be nearer the truth, anyhow.” 


94 THE PRINCE OF VORONZOFF. | 


‘He says that would be nearer the truth, my 
Sergius—my little Prince of Voronzoff !” 
‘‘The Prince of Voronzoff, my Sergius, will get 


you more friends than only Sergius—especially - 


with the ladies.” 


‘“You are cruel, Count,” said Poleska, with — 


spirit. -‘‘ These titled gentlemen are touchy about 


their titles. Even you, Count, though a repel 


can, still hold to your title.” 
The child held out his tiny arms to Nicholas, ‘and 


gave a cry of joy when he felt his strong arms 


about him. 
‘‘Ah! Poleska, he is a deserter ; the Prince of 
Voronzoff prefers me to you.” 


‘You naughty, naughty boy, to give up your 


own aunt for your republican cousin !” 
Here they both laughed, and a servant handed 


Nicholas a card. He only read, ‘‘Ivan Kersoff,” 


but the change that came over him was _wonder- 
: ful. 

‘‘ Where is this person?” he said, his hauteur 
almost like Alexis’s own. ‘‘ Tell him I cannot see 
him,? if | 

‘* He insists, Count, and is in ihe library. 9 


Nicholas knit his brows, and, with an impatient — 


exclamation, followed the servant into the house. 


Ta Pee gill at oo 


is ; : ] 
b ; : . ; % { , Z oad m : 
i ep. "| buf a PS 7 P os vie c wW gan =A, a a , 
Perna oa del aie Oe eae Se ta ak AG Te em A. aa ee ee 


CHAPTER X. 
OLD TIES. 


' “Did you ask to see me, Ivan?’ he said as he 
entered the library. ‘‘I think there is some mis- 
take here, is it not the Prince you desire to see ?” 

The man looked at Nicholas, he was the same 
who had annoyed him in the city. 

‘ No,” he said, ‘‘ I did not ask to see the Prince, 
it was the Count of Voronzoff I desired to see.” 

_ ** Pray be seated then and make your communi- 
cation as short as possible.” 

‘Count, this thing has been going on long 
enough, and I am not to be put off this time.” 

‘* Proceed,” said Nicholas, with a wave of the 
hand. ‘‘ Who talks of putting you off ? 

‘Now, look here, I am tired of this any way. 
This is the last time I shall ever appear to you, 
hereafter, I shall act. Who is it that has robbed 
us of our happiness, of our caste, of our everything ? 
You! You have ruined my Anna’s life, she is 
leading a life of shame, and all that is owing to 
you.” : Shoe : 


Ae Henk yar Wy: 


96 THE PRINCE OF VORONZOFF. 


“T do not understand you, Ivan.” 

“You do not. Merciful Heavens! can this be 
true? Were you not our friend, our familiar 
friend? Were we not working together? Did you 


not bring your cousin into our life? We, the vic- 
tims, fell into your trap. It was a master stroke 


for you when Alexis, Prince of Voronzoff, made — 


Anna his wife.” 
‘‘It is false ?” said Nicholas, with flashing eyes. 
Alexis Voronzoff is Anna’s lawful husband,” 

said Ivan. 

‘“Why do you not tell all this to him, then ?” 
‘“Why? Because you are the one at Saale - Were 
we not working together, did we not plot together ? 

I trusted you implicitly, but you have played us 

false, you have betrayed us. Oh, these heartless 


cruel nobles, it is nothing to.rob a young girl of all. 


that makes hfe worth living? These Princes lead 
their dissolute lives trampling on us, and we must 
suffer and be silent. I do not wonder there are 
Nihilists, and I am thankful for it, they will at least 


respect a poor girl’s ) ess and willnot be ashamed ~ 


to own their wives.” He paused and Sonia’ S voice 
was heard singing outside. 
‘“‘Tt is she,” murmured Nicholas, ‘‘it is Sonia.” 
‘* Ah, she does right to sing now,” said Ivan, ** but 


there will come a time when the song will be drowned 


in tears. Sing on my pretty one, ‘ they laugh best 


who laugh last,’ and you will he, long enjoy the 


title of Princess of .Voronzoff.” 
‘““What are you going to do?” asked Nicholas. 
‘* Be careful how you touch her, you shall not harm 


THE PRINCE OF VORONZOFFP. 97 


one hair of her head. Do with me as you will, 
wreak your vengeance on us men, but Sonia and 
the infant must remain untouched. Remember, 
you have Nicholas Voronzoff to deal with.” 

‘“Calm yourself, Count, this excitement is need- 
less,” said Ivan, speaking slowly and locking sharply 
at Nicholas, ‘I really believe you are in love with 
Sonia, as you call her.” 

Sir,” said Nicholas, ‘‘ this is going too far, what 
right have you to come here and make your gross 
accusations ?” | 

**T have every right for coming here, as you well 
know, and from my heart I pity the young girl 
who has married your cousin. She has little chance 
of happiness in her life, poor thing. She may be 
married to the Prince of Voronzoff, but she lit- 
tle Knows the characters of her associates ; and I 
will tell you this my friend, the Count, you may 
be very proud of your dissolute family, but the 
house of Voronzoff is composed of haughty, cruel 
adventurers.” 

‘‘ How dare you speak so. Begone, sir, with your 
insolence.” 

‘*OQne word more, wickedness cannot live for- 
ever. Your wretched name has flourished for two 
centuries, its time will soon come, and when your 
castles are razed to the ground, your fields laid 
waste, and the last of your line has perished for- 
ever, then will all Russia rejoice and thank God 

that their country has been freed from the accursed 
Voronzoff. You are proud of your title, proud of 
your name, well, be so then, but I would a thousand 


98 THE PRINCE OF VORONZOFF, 


times rather have an honest and loyal heart than 


bear the title of Prince of Voronzoff.” 

Nicholas sat for a long time pondering over the 
conversation he had with Ivan, long after Ivan 
had gone. Anyone seeing Nicholas now would 
shrink away from him. Usually he was an at- 
tractive man, but to-night his handsome face 
was clouded. Ugly thoughts make ugly faces and 


Nicholas was no exception to the rule. His pride, 


his family, his name had been dragged in the dust 
by an up-start, and the worst of all was he had said 
that the Count loved Sonia. Loved Sonia, could it 


be possible? Yet, as he recollected, it was Sonia : 


who was his constant companion and not Poleska, 
no game, no sport, no entertainment was complete 
without her, her voice, her words rang perpetually 
in his ears. Was this then love?. Love for his 
cousin’s wife ? 

Nicholas had never been a thoroughly bad man, 


he was only a careless young fellow mixing Sule 


the fast women of his acquaintance whom he 
could not respect. But, Sonia? Ah, Sonia, she 
was so different, so pure, so beautiful, so noble. 
She was more like an angel than a woman, she 
possessed the greatest power over this wayward, 


self-willed man, she brought out all the best points 


of his character, and he looking up to her as a 


superior being, felt that reverence and awe that 


only such a man can feel. He worshipped her 


long before he knew it. He loved her, but he must 


renounce her, for is she not his cousin’s wife # 


CHAPTER XI. 
CALLED TO ACCOUNT. 


The days passed by one by one until the Winter 
came, a real Russian Winter, with plenty of snow 
and ice. 

The mother of Alexis was gradually losing 
strength, and all felt doubtful if she could live to 
see another Spring. 

It was the last night of Nicholas’ stay at his 
cousin’s house, to-morrow he must go to St. 
Petersburg, for ise leave was over. 

He and Poleska were pacing up and Be. the 
long drawing room, while the others were in a 
room apart. 

‘‘And to-morrow your leave is over,” said Po- 
leska, ‘‘it seems to me you are in a great hurry to 
leave us.” , 

‘You are mistaken, Poleska, however much I 
may wish to remain ; my inclination must be sub- 
ordinate to my duty, you know a soldier’s first 
thought is to obey.” 

** You will go to new places, new scenes, will see — 
new faces and perhaps, forget the old ones.” 


1 a 
eh SS 

a a Se 

yt, Ay 


100 THE PRINCE OF VORONZOFF. 


‘*Oh, no, Poleska, there you are wrong. I am 
afraid you underrate me considerably, I have en- 
joyed myself thoroughly, in spite of Alexis, since 


my stay here, but it isa monotonous existence. Do 


you wonder that now I should long for action.” 

‘“Tt has always been so,” said Poleska, with a 
heavy heart. ‘‘Men go to war and glory, forget- 
ting everything in the excitement of the moment, 
while we poor women must wait and weep.” 

Nicholas looked at his cousin with a puzzled ex- 
pression. | 

‘* You speak with feeling, ie and yet you 
are a society girl!” 

‘‘ And is that a reason one should have no feel- 
ing, no pulse, no heart ?” asked she, warmly. ‘‘ In 
society one must run the gauntlet of the season’s 
gayeties, but you would find under many a smiling 


face an aching heart. Society conceals her griefs, 


and smiles.” 


She looked anxiously at Nicholas, but what she 


sought in his face she did not find. He only smiled 
_ quietly, and she began in a quieter strain-— | 
‘‘ Nicholas, you were to tell me if you found me 
all you left me asa little girl. How. am I changed ?” 
‘‘ The little girl I left behind me is gone forever. 


In her place I find a young girl, rich, accomplished | 


and beautiful; but still I miss my little girl.” 
‘“And you tee et it?” 
‘‘T regret her, sometimes ; for, although neither 
rich, accomplished, nor beautiful, she was at least 
sincere: ? 


‘* And her successor, do you doubt her sincerity ¢” 


Se ee Pe Tee. 


Spl s Set ee eee ee a ee Tae 


* oes 
— 


THE PRINCE OF VORONZOFF. 101 


“*T have not found her as sincere as I should 
hike, yet, but come, shall we not go to our hosts ?” 

‘Not yet, oh, not yet,” said the young girl, lay- 
ing a detaining hand on his arm, ‘‘I have some- 
thing yet to speak to you about, are you tired 
already ?’ 

‘* My dear Poleska that could not be, but what 
have you to say ?” | | 

“Sonia, do you not like her, does she not make 
my uncle a charming wife ?” 

‘“Very,” answered Nicholas, shortly, afraid of 
_ betraying himself. 

“You are cold, I love Sonia and you do not like 
her ?” © 7 
‘“ Certainly, did you piney I meant to disparage 

her ?” 

a Ah, Nicholas you are a true Voronzoff, and 
your Eicon is your end. Sonia has placed an 
obstacle between you and your prospective title. 
Sonia has given the Prince of Voronzoff a son and 

heir.” 

After a pause of several moments, Poleska said : 

‘Nicholas we belong to the grand old family of 
Voronzoff, you must not forget that, and that you 
are a soldier; a uniform has always been their , 
favorite dr ess, the house of Voronzoff is celebrated 
for its brave and gallant soldiers.” 

“ And also for its beautiful women, but do not 
be content with looks only, be beautiful in all 
besides.” 

There was a pause broken by Holedia saying— 
‘“T must go now Nicholas, grandmamma will be 


SOR To ere ee eee 
cms ae eee 
sid, SS CR ees oe 


102 _ THE PRINCE OF VORONZOFE., 


waiting forme. Good-bye, we will not meet again. ae : 


‘‘Good-bye, Poleska, good-bye.” 
- The young girl mounted the stairs, a feeling nee 
disappointment coming over her. She had not 
gone over two or three steps when N NE called — 
her back. 

‘“Poleska,” he said, ‘“‘I cannot let you go. Tike: 
this, we may not meet again for some time, will 
you not give me your blessing ?” ~ 

Poleska stood on the landing of the stairs slightly | 


above her companion, looking like a beautiful 
statue on a pedestal. She stretched out her arms- 


and repeated in a clear ringing voice these words 


borrowed from the Greek service. ‘“‘May the 
blessing of the Lord our God be upon you, ae and om 


with these words the cousins par ted. 


= 


é 


Some two weeks after Nicholas’ departure, Sonia, | is | 


Poleska and Alexis were starting out for a brisk — 


walk in the sunshine. 

Poor Poleska, her heart had fed given aniraly 
to Nicholas, and she discovered | her roishales when 
too late. 


‘What a glorious afternoon,” Said? Aiceas “ey Soe 
am sure Sonia you will agree with me that it Is ee 


finer than anything 1 in St. Petersburg.” | 


“Why are you always harping on St. Pelee . 


burg, Alexis? I will tell you once for all that I 
would not exchange all the most exquisite songs of 


the birds for one of our bands, the vaulted heavens a 


eect Te oe Lk 
iS oa grail bee ies 

Pres nam Bee 

sy 


THE PRINCE OF VORONZOFF. 103 


for the ceiling of a handsome drawing-room, or the 
soft, beautiful snow for a rich carpet.” 
“And vou, Poleska,” asked the Prince, ‘‘ are 
you equally incorrigible ?” 
~ “T am always very fond of the country, uncle ; 
but perhaps it is a little gloomy this time of year.” 
‘*Ah! perhaps so,” said Alexis, thoughtfully. 
Here a servant informed Alexis that some one 


- wanted to see him. His wife and niece walked 


a 


back to the house with him. 

“We will wait for you, Alexis,” Sonia said. 

‘In the library, sir,” said the footman. 

Alexis hastened there, and, as he entered, Sonia 
heard some one say : 

Tam not to be put off this time, my friend, 

and you may tell your friends outside not to wait 
for you ; you may be detained longer than you ex- 


pect.” And, with a disagreeable laugh, Ivan shut 
the door ad Sonia heard no more. 


For the first time in many years Alexis, Prince 


nee Voronzoff, and his wife’s brother stood face to 
~ face. No walk this afternoon for Alexis! Ivan 


was an able talker, and did his work well. Sonia 
waited in her sitting-room with a foreboding of 
fear. One moment she heard the two voices raised 
in anger, the next all was still. After nearly three 
hours Alexis emerged ; he looked pale and anxious. 

‘*Sonia,” he said, taking her hand, I shall be 
obliged to be out this evening and must leave you 


soon. While I am gone you and Poleska will be 


alone. Talk to her Sonia, I fear she still cares 


: something for Nicholas. ~ If she does, speak to her 


24 
nt er 


104 THE PRINCE OF VORONZOF®. 


as only a woman can, tell her he has no religion 


and no king, and if she still regrets him tell her 
his secret,” as he said the last two words his eyes 
burned with a strange light. ‘*‘She must be saved 


at all events. You will do this for me will you nee 
Sonia 2” 
“Oh, Alexis, a is very hard, but I will do it if 


you bid me, but tell me whee you are going, to 


one of your church or state meetings ?” - 
“Yes, [am going to a very important poeepige! 
very important It is time I was going now, but 


one thing more I must tell you, Sonia, beware of - 


Nicholas. Good bye,” and with these words he 
kissed his young wife and left the room. =~ 


- Late that same evening as Sonia and Poleska sat fs 


together in the firelight, Sonia’s thoughts reverted 
to her talk with Alexis and she felt it her duty to 
lead the conversation to Nicholas. 

‘“My dear Poleska,” she began, Alexis and I have 
always your happiness at stake, pardon me if I 


seem presumptuous, but, have you popes to love | 


Nicholas ?” 
‘Oh, Sonia,” cried the - girl, with ee 
cheeks, ‘‘ why do you ask me that ? be 


4 Because, dearest, | want to try and help you, you ! 
. have never known a mother’s care, and although I~ 
cannot fill that place for you, Live you as my own | 
sister, you are Alexis’ sister’s child, can you not. 


confide in me ?” ~ 


THE PRINCE OF VORONZOFF. 105 


‘Oh, Sonia, how kind you are, I had thought to 
hide Pie from. all eyes, oh, Iam so Paes, SO 
miserable.” 

Sonia was silent and slowly a oked he young 
-girl’s hair. Poleska left her seat and placed herself 
on a stool at Sonia’s feet. ‘‘I love him Sonia, oh, 
so much. It is a love that is immeasurable, and 
yet he cares no more for me. I used to think, but, 
no, Nicholas is anything but fickle.” ye 

‘‘Poleska, I am very, very sorry to hear this, for 
you to marry Nicholas is impossible. He is a man _ 

no girl should love, his ts has not been what it 
should be.” . 

‘‘I understand you, Sonia, you refer to his con- 
spiracies. He is a Nihilist, an atheist, but I love 
him still through 1¢ all.” 

‘* What if I should tell you he was double dealing ?” 

‘Tt is a foul slander. Who dares say so ?” 

“Your uncle Alexis, himself, oh, Poleska, this is 
not all, his wife still lives.” 

‘*Oh, Heavens, his what ?”’ 

‘“Strange as it may seem, Nicholas is no longer 
free. A clandestine marriage binds him in its 
grasp.” | | 

Poleska’s sobs choked her utterance, she flung 
her head in Sonia’s lap, sweet, patient Bue 

“Oh, Nicholas, Nicholas !” cried Poleska, ‘‘ is it, 
can it be true ? and I loved you so much, so very 
much.” 

‘“Be comforted Poleska, you have loved not 
wisely but too well, Nicholas is not for such as 

you, he has forfeited his right to you.” 


106 THE PRINCE OF VORONZOFF. 


Poleska gradually grew calmer, until, her eyes 
heavy with tears, she dropped to sleep. Sonia 
kissed her tenderly as a mother would. In the 
mean time Alexis’ last meeting was over and he 
lay stretched upon the ground beneath the moon’s 
bright rays, pierced by a duellist’s sword. The 
warm blood flowed from a wound in the side and 
slowly discolored the white snow. The blood of 
the haughty Voronzoff was ebbing away and draw- 
ing the life of its mighty Prince in its tide. No 
hand now could check the crimson current ; what 
were wealth, power, name, in the presence of .the 
dread foe? Death strikes saint and sinner, prince 
and pauper, alike, and spares none, and when the 
church chimes pealed out the half hour slowly on 
the frosty air, Alexis, Prince of Voronzoff, was no 
more. ‘The moon passed under a cloud, as if to 
hide its face from the ghastly sight, and so the 
weary hours dragged themselves to a close, and 
when morning dawned they carried him to his beau- 
tiful home Daniloviski. | 


CHAPTER XII. 
% 
* NIHILIST VIEWS. 


It was six years since Alexis, Prince of Voron- 


| zoff, had died by the hand of Ivan Kersoff—a 


hand raised to avenge all he held most sacred—and 


Alexis, in the full force of his manhood, vigor and 


prime; was with one blow made to pay with his 


life for a youthful folly that had shadowed all his 


after life. . 3 
How he met his death, no one knew; but it was 
given out that he fell by the road-side while return- 


ing from a meeting. His mother never rallied 


from the shock to her nerves and, before long, she 
followed her idolized son to the grave. 

Sonia was left alone with the child, and had 
lived at the Daniloviski place until now, six years 
after her husband’s death, she had established her- 
self at a hotel in St. Petersburg, with Mikel, her 
husband’s old servant, as her only attendant. 

She would sit in the evening by a fire, with her 
head between her hands, dreaming of her past life 
and all that Alexis was to her. 


108 THE PRINCE OF VORONZOFF, 


One evening old Mikel came to her, ‘‘The Count 
of Voronzoff,” he said. 


‘*T will go,” she said ; and for the first time since 


she had been a Chet Sonia and Nicholas stood 
face to face. 

A great wave of feeling swept over him as he 
saw her. She was so young, so fair for so much 
sorrow, while she with Alexis’ last words, ** Beware 


of Nicholas,” ringing in her ears, felt almost inawe 


of him, he looked so very handsome as he stood 
there in his uniform. 
‘* Welcome to St. Petersburg, conte ” he said ; 


‘*Tam glad to see you looking so well; and ies es 


little Prince, how is he?’ : 

‘‘ Sergius is very well, Nicholas, and grows every 
day more like his father, he is all I have to remind 
me of him now.” ; 


Her sadness touched him, and he said gently, 


‘Tt was hard, very hard I know, and so sudden 
too, but you must not let your thoughts dwell too 


much on the past, for the sake of your son you 


should look to the future. Remember, that as the 


Prince of Voronzoff there will be much expected of — 


him.” 
Sonia trembled. He was so ie so considerate, 


and these were the first words of that kind she had 


heard since the death of Alexis. ‘‘My poor little 
Sergius,” she said, the tears starting to her eyes, 
‘‘sometimes when I think about it and how much 
my little boy will be responsible for, I wish we 
were peasants, so that we might have no anxiety.” 
“And would you give up that ambition that a 


ae 


7 


ey Mee ee 
= ot 4 ae 


THE PRINCE OF VORONZOFF. 109 


mother feels to see her son rich and powerful ? 
There are many who would envy you your position 
as mother of the Prince of Voronzoff.” 

“They may spare their envy then, for to me, 
above all titles and riches I should ask for happi- 
ness, for without that what crown is blessed ?” 

* You talk of happiness as a thing beyond you. 
Tell me, Sonia, are you not happy ”” 

‘* Yes, oh, yes, as happy as I ever can ask to be 
in this world, now. I would be very ungrateful 
were I not, as long as I have my child, what else. 
could Task for. Yes, Il am happy, but lam talking 
too much about myself, tell me of you, how are you 


_ getting on? Remember I have heard nothing for 


so long.” : 
if Things have been the same with me as usual. 


Time passes quickly in Petersburg where every 


thing is given over to pleasure and gayeties and 
riches.” 

‘*“Are you still—that is—tell me if you are still a 
conspirator. Do you remember how we talked 
about it at’ Daniloviski? Ah, those were happy 


days,” she said wearily. 


‘‘Could I forget that? never; those few days 
were to meas Heaven. I have never been a good 
man, perhaps; men say my faults have covered my 
virtues, but those few weeks in the country, far 
from the bustle and turmoil of the city, did for me 


what everything else has failed to accomplish, and 


could I have been there a little longer I poe have 


become a better man than I have been.” 


‘But if you really se that is half the battle ; 


” 


; ee Sty’ <a 5 ie * Sse » 


FL03s° THE PRINCE OF VORONZOFP. — 


remember I am your monitor, try to give up some- ie 


thing for my sake and let me feel that I have done 
some good, if ever so little.” 


These words, so softly spoken, nearly madeiches= 4 
las betray himself, but he recovered binsek with ee 


an effort. 


‘“Don’t talk of what I can give up, you little - : 


know how utterly worthless I am. I have~passed 
through scenes that you have never dreamed of, 
and I hope you will never know. I, Nicholas Vo- 


ronzoff, though a Count and a soldier, acknow- : 


ledge no God and no King.” 


‘No God,” cried Sonia, ‘that is fee ible, and no- 
King! Nicholas, you tell me this, now while you — 
are the King’s servant, have.on the uniform of his _ 
guard, you live by him, see him day by day, and _ 
yet in your innermost heart are poe for ne a 


ruin. Oh, it is terrible.” 


“ But what can be done, we cannes go on eee ie 
in the same way we have been doing, the slavés of | 
despotism, millions of lives at the caprice of one 
man, thousands sent to Siberia every day. Do you 


think the people can sit tamely by and suffer all 


this. No, the time will come when they wil 
revolt, overturn Czar and Empire and proclaim 
themselves the rulers. It will be for the good of 
Russia ; we saw how it worked in France, but the 
Nihilists are increasing not only in Petersburgalone, _ 
they are scattered over all parts of the Empire, and — 
when one is called upon to strike, they ask no _ 
questions but do their work promptly and silently.” 
‘“Oh, Nicholas, how dreadful, how very terrible, 


= te 


; a ee eas - 
oe tty hp ote fight Mera 8 ory Os eS 2 ee ie NG ote 
Ne Fe Oe ee Reis Bebe rk ee ae ae 


| Sy le udes 
6 Seer 2 
aot ae a 


~~ 
+ 
; 


THE PRINCE OF VORONZOFF. it 


| but what if you should be found out? The Ozar- 
_ deals summarily with Nihilists.” 


‘‘T would be then only one more victim of a 
noble cause, and in the bleak steppes of. Siberia, I 
should, like so many others, find a living death, 
and wait till death came to free me from tyranny.’ 

Sonia involuntarily shuddered, but Nicholas rose 
to go. ; 

“Don’t think of these things, Sonia, but keep up 
a good heart for the child’s sake, and you will let 
me come again, will you not ?” 

Sonia could not anwer, but bent her head, and 
soon afterwards Nicholas was gone. 


, en ce 
eT 
ews erat 


CHA PTR Xn 
FORBIDDEN FRUIT. 


After that first visit, Nicholas found his way. 
often to the hotel where Sonia was staying, and 
they saw almost as much of each other as ih the 
old days at Daniloviski. 

Nicholas, Count of Voronzoff, was, according to 
the world, a dangerous man, but the world does 
not know a man’s inward feelings, and few would — 
have believed the Count capable of his feeling for | 
Sonia. He revered her, worshipped her, almost, 
and with that instinctive feeling of his would have 
guarded her from even a thought that would have 
been harmful to her. Dangerous man he might 
be, a good man he certainly was not, but his love 
was genuine and pure as it is capable for us mor- 
tals to feel. And so he came again and again, till 
his love grew too str ong for him and he determined 
to tell her all. 7 

So one evening as they were sitting by the fire, 
for he had been dining with her, he told her all 
that had been passing in his mind ane heart. 


THE PRINCE OF VORONZOFF. Eines 7 83: 


“I love you, Sonia,” he said, ‘‘Oh, so much, 
that it is killing me to see you day by day, still as 
far away as if you were the wife of another. Now 
you are free, and if you could care for me enough 
to descend to my rank, I want to make you my 
wife.” . ) 

Sonia gazed on him with fear and horror. ‘ You 
say all this to me, you !” she said. 

‘I know that you think I have no right to say 
these things—that you consider yourself pledged 
to Alexis ; but would you spoil my chance of hap- 
piness for the love of one long since dead ?” 

‘““Long since dead!” exclaimed Sonia. ‘‘ Oh, 
Nicholas, I had little thought to hear words as 
these from your lips! You have falleri low, indeed, 
,to ask my hand after all that has happened.” 

‘But listen, Sonia ; you would not force me to 
perpetual darkness—I, who am so much in need of 
all your love? Sonia—my Sonia, if I may call you so 
-—smile on me, love me, become my wife, and I 
will give up all for your sake and will follow where 


/. you lead me !”- 


_ He advanced toward her, but Sonia waved him 
back. : 

‘“‘ Nicholas, I little thought you would betray my 
friendship like that.. Stand back! oh, that Alexis 
could protect me now! Do you not know it is an 

insult to speak to me as you are doing?” - 
~ “An insult to tell a woman you love her! An 
insult to give a woman a love as good and pure as 
anya god could bless you with! An insult? Sonia, 


F * a £ A \ yoo Ms 2 > 5 Ce Set phan 
_ “oe = 4 c 


114 THE PRINCE OF VORONZOFR., 


what can you.mean? Surely you or I must be, 
going mad !” 

“Nicholas, ” said Sonia, advan to him ANG ie 
laying her hand gently on his arm, ‘“‘you and I 
have always been friends. You are Alexis’ near- _ 
est relative, and I would sooner die than believe — 
any evil of you. I thought at least you would — 
_ spare me such a wrong. Tell me if it is some great 
mistake, or are you really pecs without con- 
science ?” 

_. “There are hidden meanings in your ele 
claimed Nicholas. ‘‘ To what you allude I aniae 
tell. For heaven’s sake speak out ! Has some base — 
slander reached you of my affairs. Tell me to what R: 
- you allude, and let me deny it while I may.” Ls 
oe e uldk give the world to have you deny it, 
Nicholas, but I fear youcannot. Itis my faultifI = 
have capes your Lome for I. know that your wite pie 
is living.” | ce 

‘*My wife! ood heavens, speak, who told b you. ee 
that ? | 

“ Alexis told me you had a alantlosnate marriage ey 
with some girl beneath you. That your children 
were your heirs, and, oh, heaven, to think that.you tae 
would ask me to be your wife!” ees 

Nicholas stood where he had heard these words, 
rooted to the spot, every vestige of color left his— 
face, his. hands clenched-and in a voice hard ae 
~ metallic he said—‘‘ Did Alexis say thatof me?’ = — 

‘“ He told me that a long time ago, and that is 
why we informed Poleska to keep her from marry- — i a 
ing you; oh, Nicholas, I should scold you, but ne - 


cs bated na ; re 


‘THE PRINCE Of VORONZOFF. 115 


pity you so much, so very much, and I know it 
must have been in a moment of temptation that - 
you married her and ruined all your after life.” 
Nicholas dropped into a chair by a table and hid 
his face on his arm. He was completely crushed. 
No one had ever seen the Count so much moved. 
Sonia looked at him and her breath came in great 
gasps, but her eyes were dry. Suddenly he raised 
himself, ‘‘ And you believed it of me,” he said, his 
voice stirring hidden depths in her heart. 
‘* Yes, I believed it, Nicholas,” she answered. 
. ‘* Then my life is over,” he said, ‘“‘I must go away, 
perhaps you will never see me again. I have lost 
all that makes life worth living, but I love you 
still, Sonia, and some day you will not think so bad- 
lyof me. I cannot tell you now, but some day you 
_will learn all and then you will pity me. Thad not 
believed Alexis could tell you such a thing. Good 
bye, Sonia, if you ever want me—I will send you my 
address so you can send for me; oh, Sonia, Alexis 
may have loved you, but not half as much as I 
- havedone. You will pray for me, will you not, 
Sonia? I need it so much, say good-bye from me 
to Sergius, the only one whose love has not brought 
me unhappiness, and try not to think any worse of 
me than you can,” and with these words he. left 
the room, and Nicholas’ dream of bliss was over. 
- His cousin’s hatred struck him from the grave, 
his cousin stood between him and the woman he 
loved after six years had passed over his grave, 
separating them as much as if be had been living. 
_ A house divided against itself brings only unhap- 


CHAPTER XIV. 
VILE ACCUSATIONS. 


From the time of Nicholas’s departure, trouble 
came once again to Sonia. In the first place, Ser- 
gius was ill and, although Sonia thought nothing 
of this, the little boy grew rapidly worse so that 
his condition was alarming. 

While matters were at this crisis, a stranger 
called on Sonia. The woman seemed of one of the 
lower classes, and was clad in deep mourning. 

“You have come at a very unfortunate time,” 
said Sonia, ‘‘for my little boy is very ill; but I can 
spare you a few minutes, if you will state your 
business briefly.” } 

‘“My business is more with you than with my- 
self. I have come to you for justice. I have been 
too long kept in the background ; but now, come 
what will, I must speak. Do you know that you 
are keeping a woman’s rights from her? Did 
Alexis find himself duped by your pretty face ? 
He showed taste, but he forgot at that time that I 
am Princess of Voronzoff.” 


“Ne at | rns ee 
eS ive 
4 


118 THE PRINCE OF VORONZOF#. 


“You!” exclaimed Sonia. ‘‘Oh, no; you are 


mistaken! If you are the wife of Nicholas, I will 
do all in my power to help you; but do not again 
let the name of the Prince of Voronzoff pass your 
lips!” 


‘‘Nicholas my husband ? Oh, no, the Count is thee 
friend that betrayed us, but Alexi Prince of Vo- — 
ronzoff, was my huebana: and now I have come to. 


you to demand my rights. He loved and married 


me before he ever saw your face, my pretty fool. — 
Ah, how happy we were for inne short months— ~ 


three short months of an existence is a very little 
time for happiness. Then he left me for his gay 
capital. He went back to his old life and I was left 
alone ; when I asked for money he grew cross and 
sullen ; he was ashamed of me. Oh, that I should 
ever have lived to see him so. I went to him one 


night ; I and my child were starving, yes, actually 


starving, while he lived in his palace with a re- 
tinue of servants. I went to him and begged 
money to buy bread. I showed him my child, his 
child, thin and dying, and he turned me from the 


door and I was left in the cold and snow alone, * 
while Alexis went back to his life of pleasure. The 
poor little babe died in my arms, died from expo- — 


~ sure and want, and I was left, through no fault of 
my own, to an existence worse than death. What 


“right had he, what right, I say, to take an innocent 


girl from her happy home and then leave her so 
that Be own parents are ashamed to recognize 
her 7 


ee = 


E 


THE PRINCE OF VORONZOFF. 119 


Sonia was looking at her spell-bound, her face as 
white as death. 

‘“This is a lie,” she said, hoarsely and with an 
effort. ‘‘Do you think the world would believe 
-your story ?” 

‘It rests with you if the world will ever know 
it or not. It would sound well, would it not, for 
_ Alexis, Prince of Voronzoff, to be accused of big- 
amy? I can defame his character, spoil your life, » 
my lady, as you have already spoiled mine, and let 
that child you speak of blush to own his father. 
Oh, you cold heartless nobles, you little know all 
we suffer by you.”’ 

_ “Woman,” Sonia cried, ‘enough of this, your 
proofs, where are your proofs ?” 

‘*T took good care of that,” answered the woman, 
‘here is a letter to me from your loving husband 
first.” , 

Sonia took the letter mechanically, and it was 
with an effort that she read it.. It began—‘‘ My 
own darling, Anna,” and ended, “‘ your affectionate 
husband,” and then the well known signature—it 
~-was his writing beyond doubt. Sonia dropped her 
hands and crushed the letterin an agony of despair. 

“You may destroy that one,” said the woman, 
‘for I have plenty more, waste of time, wasn’t it ? 
_ And here is my marriage certificate, look, there is 
his name, do you believe now ”” : 

Sonia felt as if she were about to faint, her limbs 
refused to hold her and she sank into a chair at this 
second proof, 


' + 
190 THE PRINCE OF VORONZOFF. oS 


‘‘T believe you, bold, wicked woman,” she said, 
‘“‘that you are the wife of the Count, for my husband 
told me so himself.” | 

‘*Only another ruse to blind you; the Prince 
hated his cousin and took that form of revenge. 
You see I took good care to have my proofs, now I 
come to my business—the world need never know 
the Prince was my husband, as no one knows but 
you, and my mouth will be closed on one con- 
dition ; give me some money ; my silence is to! be 
Raion x 

‘Buy my husband’s honor! No, you are an im- 
postor! Go, I have listened too long to your vile ac- 
cusations,.’ 

‘*T go then, my an and before to-morrow night” 
Petersburg will be ringing from one end to the 
other with the Prince’s name coupled with mine.” 

‘‘No, no, that shall not be, do you swear that 
cer hentes is genuine ?” 

‘*T will swear by all I hold mast sacred that Iam 
the only and lawful wife of Alexis, Prince of Vo- 
ronzoff.” 

** And your object is money ?” 

‘“ Yes, my object is money.” 

y Nene your price ?”’ 

The woman named a fabulous sum but still - 
Sonia wavered, her breath came in quick, short 
‘Sasps. 

‘“ Woman,” she said, ‘‘I will give you twice that 
sum and will beggar myself if you will swear all 
your story is a fabrication and the certificate is 
false.” 


THE PRINCE OF VORONZOFF. 121 


The woman’s eyes gleamed, she wavered, then 
drawing a heavy sigh she said : 

‘“Do not tempt me to such baseness. I loved 
Alexis too much to deny him now. I swear again 
that he is and was my lawful husband.” 

Sonia heaved a deep sigh, counted out the money, 
and the woman departed. - 

She sank down on a couch and gave way to a 
paroxism of sobs, her very reason seemed shattered. 
‘*“Nicholas! Nicholas,” rang on the air, but he 
came not and there was none to witness her intense. 
suffering. Soon she arose pale and white, and tak- 
ing out Nicholas’ address with trembling fingers 
sent him a peremptory summons.” 

**Oh, Alexis, Alexis, if this be true I cannot bear 
it. Nicholas, Nicholas, come, for God’s sake come 
for I am so unhappy.” 

Then she went in the little fellow’s room and 
found him raving and delirious. All night long in 
that darkened room he struggled between life and 
death, and when morning came worn out and ex- 
hausted he fell asleep. 


CHAPTER XV. 
ANOTHER CALLED. 


The first glimpse of a cold gray dawn broke over 
St. Petersburg when Nicholas entered it, having 
flown from the other side of the Continent at 
Sonia’s call. She met him in the hall-way. 

‘Oh, Nicholas,” she cried, ‘‘thank God you 
have come, I feared you would be too late for Ser- 
gius. Come, he is sleeping, but oh, what anight,” ~__ 

and she sighed wearily. 
~  **T came as soon as I could, but you look tired 
and wan, lie down for a little while and I will call — 
you if—if—that is—if anything is needed.” 
_ She tried to smile and with a weary ‘‘ Thank 

you, Nicholas,” she turned away and he entered 
the chamber of sickness. P 

Prepared as Nicholas was for a great change, he 
was struck by the pallor of the face on the pillow. 
As he stood looking down at him, thinking of his | 
dead cousin, the child suddenly awoke and seeing ~ 
who was looking at him, turned toward him with 
a gleam of intelligence on his poor wan little face, 
and clutched at his cousin convulsively. 


THE PRINCE OF VORONZOFF. 123 


‘Nicholas, Nicholas,” he whispered, ‘‘I am so 


_ glad you came. I wanted to see you so much, if 


only once more before I die.” 
“But you must not die, my Sergius, you are too 
young and too good, you have often been sick 


_ before.” 


“But never like this this is worse than all, and 
mamma looks so sad, oh, itis dreadful—” he paused 
for a monient then went on, ‘‘ Nicholas, Nicholas, 
where are you ?” 

** Here, my boy, close to you.” | 

‘It is so dark here, give me your hand so that I 
shall not be afraid. Do you remember how they 
used to tellme that I had taken your title away 
from you? It was always a pity, I thought, but 
you will now be the Prince of Voronzoff after all. 
You used to want it so much, and when I think of 
that somehow it does not seem so hard to die after 
all?’ 

The child slept on now for he had erown very 
weak, and Nicholas was left to his own thoughts, and 
bitter thoughts they were, too, of all his past life, 
for seeing that little child brought him very near to 


_ death. 


The day passed on very drearily and as all the 
rest of that gay city was searching for pleasure and 
gayety, that one little boy was fighting, oh, so 
hard, for his poor little life. Of what avail was it. 
now that he was Prince of Voronzoff. Who could . 
keep him now? And as once before a Prince of that 


- noble house was struck by death, so now another. 


1294 THE PRINCE OF VORONZOFF. 


victim was ready for the call, and father and son 
would soon be together. 

‘“ Nicholas,” moaned the boy suddenly enuite 
‘‘what was the prayer I used to say? How did it 
vo? I forget so now, I never used to, tell me so 
that I can remember it.” 

Nicholas gave a start. He had given up prayers 
long ago, but the soft, pleading voice was not to be 
silenced. Slowly and very painfully the Count re- 
peated the prayer that awoke so many tender 
~ memories in his mind. Memories of a past so long 
ago that the young soldier had believed them for- 
gotten long ere this, of a mother’s love, a happy 
home, and perfect trust that a life-time of gayeties 
and frivolities cannot wholly efface from the book 
of time. Now, as he repeated the simple, childish 
prayer, these memories came flitting over him, and, 
strong soldier man of the world as he was, his voice 
trembled, and hot scalding tears came to his eyes. 


He wept? Yes, the strong man by the bed-side of : 
the little child, wept tears of humiliation and ‘re- ~ 


morse. Scoffers may laugh at such things and call 
it weakness. Oh, my friends, if you could not 
weep at such a time, I pity you! Those tears were 
sacred, wrung as they were from a man’s best feel- 


ing—coming direct from the heart ; no man that is 


utterly lost could shed such tears As these. 
The little voice grew weaker and weaker, and 


Nicholas had to bend very low to va the waver- _ 


ing breath. 
“Mamma,” whispered the child, “ OR will yes 


THE PRINCE OF VORONZOFF. . 125 


care of her, won’t you ? She will have no one when 
Iam gone; you will try, won’t you, for my sake?” 

“Yes, yes child, but don’t worry about these 
_ things ; it makes you weaker.” 

‘But you will promise, won’t you? Say just 
once you promise to take care of mamma.” 

‘‘I promise, Sergius, to do all in my power for 
her.” 

‘“T am so glad, so glad,” he murmured, ‘‘ that I 
was in time,” then after another pause, ‘‘I never 
thought I should die so soon, I am so young yet, 
only seven you know and there is so much to live 
for. I often wonder what it will be like up there, 
it seems so dark and far off. I wish you were going 
with me, it is lonesome, going all alone, but I shall 
gee papa and tell him how kind you have been. 
Come nearer, nearer yet, oh, Nicholas, don’t let 
me die, keep me here, I don’t want to leave every- 
thing behind me. Mamma, Nicholas!” then he 
stopped, he turned over on his side and Nicholas 
thought he had gone to sleep. Strong man that 
he was, hardened to sights of the dead and dying 
on the battle-field, he could not stand the sight of 
his poor little cousin’s suffering. | 

The child was fond of him, the only thing in his 
life that was fond of him, and now he was dying, 
dying, and Sonia would be left alone. At the 
thought of Sonia he trembled ; this was her child 
and he could not save him. Suddenly in the still- 
ness of the sick room a feeling of great calm came 

over him; he felt all, that there must be a God 
after all. He seemed so near, so very near, the 


126 THE PRINCE OF VORONZOFF. 


whole room seemed filled with His presence, and 
Nicholas bowed his head and prayed as he had 


not prayed for many days. All his sins, his ~ 


failings, his temptations he poured out and prayed 
humbly for grace and for forgiveness. He never 
knew how long he prayed, for after a time, 
he, being exhausted by his long journey, fell 
asleep in his chair and ‘slept until late. Sergius 
slept on and the stillness in the room was in- 
tense. Soon Sonia came to find them, the quiet 
causing her heart a great bound of fear. She 
entered, passed Nicholas, who was still sleeping, 


and went to Sergius. One glance at his face, one __ 


touch of his hand, and with a wild shriek that was 
heard through the house, she fell upon the fioor. 


Nicholas awoke with a start, and ran to his little - 


cousin’s side. Too late, the hand of death was 
already there, the youngest branch of the house of 
Voronzoff was riven from the tree. Ivan’s curse 
had fallen on that mighty house, riches, name and 


rank, now were of no avail, the little boy had. 


gone to join Alexis ; father and son were together 
waiting on the behead shore ; for Sergius, Prince of 
Voronzoff, had breathed his ee 


CHAPTER XVI. 
AMOUR OMNIA VINCIT. 


The story is now soon told. Several days after 
the death of Sergius, Mikel came to Sonia. 

‘“The Prince of Voronzoff, your highness.” Sonia 
~-was astonished. 

**Do you not know, Mikel,” she said, ‘“‘that the 
Prince of Voronzoff is dead ?” 

“Yes, your highness,” said the old man, a flush 
of pride coming into his withered cheek, ‘‘ but the 
Prince of Voronzoff has lived—has lived in Russia 
for the past two hundred years.” 

Sonia gave a start. | 

‘It is Nicholas,” she said, ‘‘and Prince of Vo- 
ronzoff ; bid him come in.” 

When Nicholas saw her, he was startled, for so 
much grief had left its mark on Sonia, and the 
last few days were trying ones. 

‘“You have come,” she said, ‘‘at a time when I 
most need you; let us get back to Daniloviski as 
soon as possible. The city has lost all attraction 
for me,” and she sank into a chair. 


sn 


128 THE PRINCE OF VORONZOFF. 


Who would have known this careworn looking 
woman for the lovely bride of eight short years 
ago, but Nicholas preferred her more as she was 
now, for her sorrows had passed by her leaving 
marks of suffering but.of sweetness on her face, 
and her character was strengthened by her experi- 
ences. 

They laid Sergius at rest in his father’s tomb at 
Daniloviski, the tiny coffin laid beside his father’s 
and gr andthe s, and Nicholas had had his peer 
desire, he was fhe Prince at last. 

a You ike the Prince of Voronzoff,” Sonia said 
to him, ‘‘nothing now stands bepween you and 
your ambition, the Prince of Voronzoff at last.” 

Nicholas flushed at these words. ‘‘And will you 
like me less as the Prince than as the Count? The 
Count had many faults that the Prince will endea- 
vor to atone for.” 

Sonia sighed. : 

‘“Tf the Prince is as good a friend to me as the 
Count was I shall be satisfied.” 

Not long after this, Sonia still doubting the 
woman’s story about Alexis, went herself to see 
the church register in the little country church, 
Nicholas was standing beside her and as he saw the © 
hot flush mount to her brow, he said, ** Now do you 
believe ?” 

‘“Oh, Nicholas, it is so terrible, and you, you 
lead me to believe it was yourself, how could you 
leave me to think that of you ?” | 

‘‘ Because I loved you,” answered the Prince, 
simply. That was all he said, but Sonia with tears 


 ‘PHR PRINCE OF VORONZOFF. 199 


in her eyes felt how strong his love must have been 
to kill his own happiness that she might believe her 
husband’s memory untarnished. She saw by the 
register that the marriage had taken place ten years 
ago, when Nicholas was in Siberia, commanding a 
military post, it must have been Alexis, and only 
two years before her own marriage. 

‘* And you knew it all along!” she said. 

“Yes,” he answered, slowly, “all along.” 

‘*But their letters,—they wrote to one another— 
where are they ?” 

‘‘T burned them, so that you should never 
know.” ‘ 

‘** And yet you hated Alexis.” 

‘*Yes, I hated him ; but he has answered for his 
sins long ere this.” 

So he was married! He had. deceived her, yet 
she had trusted him so much! The young widow 
struggled with herself to renounce his memory ; 
she was no longer his widow. Who was she, only 
Sonia Valovitch after all, and with a struggle she 
cast his memory from her. . 

But there was another image that had taken pos- - 
session of her heart, that, strive as she would, she 
could not rid herself of. ‘‘ He was kind to my 
little boy,” she murmured, ‘Cand I am going away 
soon and he will forget me,” but even as she says 
it, two large tears well up in her eyes. Tears came 
so easily to Sonia, then. 


* % * * * 


eke eo 5 om ay So eS ee ee 
faint a OP ee ie eee 
alm Ns : eT Cage eee mere ae 
Daher % <i oa, PR re 
7 


130 THE PRINCE OF VORONZOFF, 


It was a soft, warm day, in early Spring, the 
first of the year, bringing many promises to those 
tired of the long Russian Winter. Sonia was going 
to church—the same little village church where 
she and Nicholas had gone together on that Sum- 
mer’s day, now so long ago-—and as she thinks of 
it, she heaves a sigh which changes into a sad 
smile, as Nicholas appears and Says, looking down 
at her : 

‘*May I not come too ?”’ | 

They walk the remainder of the way in silence 
and enter the church. What memories it brings to 
Sonia. The short simple service is soon over ae 
the priest dismissed the congregation. ‘ 

As they walk home in the clear morning air, the 
birds are singing and all nature seems in gladness — 
to throw off the sombre cloak of winter. | 


Nicholas had entered into the service at the little _ 


church, not as an onlooker, as before, but as a — 
member. Ne 3 
Now as they walk home he turns to Sonia— | 
‘‘You have done so very, very much for me, I 
can never repay you, you once told me you would 
try and make me better and you have succeeded 
better than you could ever have hoped for.” 
‘‘T am so glad,” said Sonia, ‘‘I can now feel that 


Ihave at least done some good, but Nicholas, [must _ 


tell you one thing. Don’t think too badly of me, — 
but it was I who turned Poleska against you. I 


told her you were already married. I believed it 
then, and now—Oh, I have spoiled yOu life, can — 3) 


you forgive me for it ?” 


THE PRINCE of VORONZOF®. 131 


“T forgive you Sonia, willingly, for you did not 
know the harm you were doing me, but forget it 


all now for it is past and gone.” 


“And then your kindness to my little boy, my 


poor little Sergius, that child loved you so very 


much, even in his raving he called your name. I 


have no longer any right or any place here, you are 


the Prince of Voronzoff now, the woman, his 


widow. I shall go away very soon, leave this place 


where I have been so happy and you will soon for- 
get me, but I can never fail to remember all your 


kindness to me and mine.” 


They were on their own grounds now, and as 
they walked under the old trees Nicholas began, 

‘*Sonia, could you learn to love me well enough 
to become once more Princess of Voronzoff for me ? 
I love you too well to bear to think of your leaving 
me, now that happiness is beginning to smile upon 
me. You said that I was ambitious and so lam, 
but the Prince of Voronzoff is nothing to me unless 
you share my title, my home, my heart. I told you 
of my love once before, but then a stain was upon 
my name which has been removed now, though 
not by my hands. I love you so much Sonia, and 
I have waited these many, many years to make you 


~ all mine own, the fates have decreed that nothing 


should stand between us, there is nothing wanting 
but your answer to knit our hearts together.” Then 
Sonia looked up, her lips trembled and with a cry 


she sprang towards him. He caught her in his 
arms and held her passionately to his heart that 


beat only for her. Happy Sonia, to have gained the 


139 HE PRINCE OF VORONZOFR, 


love of that brave, noble soldier, that kind, generous 
friend, Russia’s noblest Peer, Nicholas, Prince of 
Voronzoff. ‘‘ May the blessing of the Lord thy 
God be upon thee.” 


i 


The Lastiot the Saint Reaults. 


CHAPTER I. 
LOVE. 


It was a soft, balmy evening in fair Brittany— 
- Brittany, the home of the poet and the artist-— 
Brittany, the fairest jewel in the crown of France! 
It had been a fete day, and the streets were 
_thronged with peasants returning to their homes. 
On an eminence overlooking the bay, and seen 
from the whole village, stood the chateau of Saint 
Reault, that lordly mass of granite that had defied 
so many generations; for the Saint Reaults were a 


very old family and had the true Breton spirit, 


whether shown in council or in the field. 

On this particular evening, as.the moon rose, she 
cast her light on two figures walking in the chateau 
srounds. How many times since the old chateau 
had stood there had lovers wandered through the 
grounds, the same moon shining on all! — 

As the lovers stand now let us draw a picture of 


134 THE LAST OF THE SAINT REAULTS. 


them. The girl, for so she seemed, was tall and 
slight, a very type of the old Breton who had lived 
here for so many, many years, the lovely daughter 
of the brave old warriors, whose tales of war and 


daring she had heard from the peasants in her na- © 


tive village. 
Where are they now, those brave Bretons and 


France’s best champions? Dead and gone, and — 


now only six feet of earth is enough to cover them 
while the memory of their brave deeds will live in 


Brittany forever. Allgone? Yes, Brittany knows | 


them no more and the line will end with this fair 
blossom, for Marguerite de Saint Reault is the last 
representative of that old noble line. 

Her companion is a dark, handsome man rie no 


look of the Breton, a saliiee stationed in the little 


town of Reault who has dared to love the fair Mar- 
guerite. 


‘* And is this to be the end oF all our aaeneee oe 
the girl asks, despairingly, ‘‘is this old town no- 


more to see your form or hear your voice? this 


chateau will be indeed dreary without you, must I~ 


because I love you, lose you—so soon ?” 


‘‘ Marguerite,” answered her companion, “‘be — 


strong, be brave, it is true I am ordered to Paris, 
to-morrow Iam going, but wait patiently for me 
and I will return to make you my bride.” 


‘“ Wait! this isa word unknown to my race,. the | 


‘Saint Reaults know not to wait. Take me with you 


let us share a common fortune and I promise you 


you shall hear no complaint from my lips.” 


“It cannot be, oh, my darling, a. soldier’s life eS 


rs ae et we 


ee 


THE LAST OF THE SAINT REAULTS. 135 


would be too hard on you ; we love, let that suffice 
and if we are true to one another, no one can come 
between us.” 

‘** But such a long, long time to wait, oh, Fer- 
nand the world is cruel, men go away to fight and 
women wait and weep, how can I bear it ”’ 

“Think of me fighting for you, gaining a name 
that may be worthy of you. Marguerite de Saint 
Reault you are the daughter of a noble race, I, but 
a soldier of fortune, but I love you Marguerite, 


- more than my life, promise me never, never to for- | 
~ get me.” 


‘*Oh, Fernand, as if I could, my love, my life.” 
** Promise, Maretetite: that you will marry no 
other till I return, Bag nulee to be faithful always, as 


you love me.” 


Then in low, solemn tones the girl answered : “‘I 


promise.” 


‘*Remember the motto of your house, ‘ Faithful 
unto Death ; that shall be our motto in the long 


years of Penne and waiting, that are to come ; 
faithful to each other, ao even unto death.” 


The next morning there was a great excitement 


in Reault, for the King had ordered the troops to 


Paris and all was in readiness for marching. | 
Marguerite had gone to the village to see them 

depart, and now she was having a farewell conver- 

sation with her soldier-lover as she buckled on his 


sword, 


{36 THE LAST-OF THE SAINT REAULTS. 


‘Marguerite, my love, my darling,” he said, 


closing her in his arms, ‘‘ we part to meet again, 


think only of me as striving to gain a place and 


name which I can give you without lowering you 


in the world’s esteem. Oh, this terrible rank and 
nobility, it creates only discord and inharmony. If 


I had my way, each man should be as equal as the 


other, has he not the same body and the same soul ? 
where then is the difference, a king is only mortal.” 

‘‘ Hush, Fernand what words are these, is not 
the king our ruler, are not we his subjects?” — 

‘‘France has had a king too long, too long has 
she submitted to his tyranny, the time is not far 
off when we shall of all men be free,—or die.” 

These last two words were almost whispered, but 
Marguerite shuddered. 

‘‘Oh, no,” she said, ‘‘ you must not die, aa only 
does ens want you, but—” 

‘*Horward,” shouted the Commander, Maean 48 

The band Birick. up a stirrmg tune, the banner 


of France waved in the breeze, the column ad- | 


vanced. 
Fernand strained Marguerite to his heart. 
‘*Courage !” he ee ‘* our time will soon 
come, and remember— 


“Paithful unto death,” she said, wink a ee 


drawn sigh. 

He fell into line. The troops were already march. 
ing. He gave her one last look; then in the fair 
Breton sunshine they parted. 

The young girl watched them as they wound in 


a 
b 


THE LAST OF THE SAINT REAULTS. 137 


and out among the trees of the village road, till the 
music ceased, and they were gone. 

Only a bare road to show where they had gone ; 
only a girl standing there in the road, the sunlight 
playing about her form; only this, and yet two 
hearts far away that night were struggling with 
fate, as with a heavy heart. And, choked between 
a sigh and a sob, Marguerite de Saint Reault turned 
and went her way to the solitary chateau, leaving 
hope behind her. | 


* * * * * 

Time wore on, and in sunny Brittany the storms 
that shook France to its centre were almost un- 
known, so fair and tranquil as it seemed. 

Two years had elapsed since Marguerite and her 
lover had parted. Two long years to the girl, 
grown now through despair and love to be a wo- 
man, for in that time no word had arrived from 
Fernand—no message of love, or even of sympathy, 
from him who had her heart. 

Hope succeeded hope till, as the time wore on 
and brought no word, a calm, maddening despair 
seemed to overcome her, and in her dreams she 
saw always a young soldier lying on the ground 
dying, with her name on his lips. Poor soul, how 
could she know that Paris was undergoing a terri- 


- ble experience, that communication with the outer 


world was cut off, and that each soldier in that 
city was doing the work of three men to save their 


city from utter ruin ! 


‘MES SSS ea rat 


138 THE LAST OF THE SAINT REAULTS. 


But the worst had not come—only the beginning 
of that great strife that was to echo from one end 
of the world to the other. | 

At the end of September, two years from the 
scene in the moonlit garden, a stranger came to the 
chateau. A man past the prime of life, but for all 
that a peer of France, Kugene Louis Auguste, Duc 
de Chinon, of a long line of noblemen. 

He no sooner saw Marguerite than he loved her, 
loved her with all the passion of his ardent French 
nature, and it was not long before he saw that he 
loved in vain, for the beautiful fair daughter of the 
brave Saint Reaults was cold as a marble statue. | 

Marguerite and her aged grandfather were the 
only inhabitants of the old chateau, and the Duc 
offered his suit to the old grandfather and together 
they arranged it that Marguerite should become 
the Duc’s wife. 
% My dear,” said Her oramdbabiang to her, ‘‘the 


Duc is in every way worthy of you, andas for me 


I shall soon be numbered with my fathers. He — 
shall be your husband, for a long time have I 
waited to find one suitable to wed with a Saint 
Reault, he has come at last, my last hours will be 
cr red with happiness.” 

Marguerite replied to this with a Stora of aes 


and all the stubborn wilful ee of her race rose _ : 


within her at these words. 
‘‘Anything but that,” she rbAneee ‘anything — 
but that.” Sela. Vg aa 
‘But you foolish child,” replied the old man, 


THE LAST OF THE SAINT REAULTS. ~ SESS 


proudly, ‘“‘he loves you, where could you find one 
as true and brave ?” 


‘But grandfather I have no love to give him in | - 


return.” 
‘He has not asked for it, my child, be a good 
wife and love will come in due time.” 


% * 2 *% x * 


; Not long after this there was a grand wedding 
celebrated at the chateau. The daughter of the 
; Saint Reaults was to marry one of the greatest 
peers of France. } 

The chateau was in festive attire, never had it 
looked so grand as it stood in the sunshine, while 
-from its tower waved the banner of the Saint 


~ Reaults with its motto, familiar to all in the village, 


‘* Faithful unto Death.” 

The peasantry was drawn around the chateau 
- door dressed in their best, waiting for a view of the 
bride... — | | 

The great doors opened, the bridegroom stood 
there, the peasants cheered, the music sounded, the 
bridegroom lodked flushed and triumphant, the 
bride ashen pale, for as she stood there she realized ' 
_ that though she had given her hand to the Duc de 
Chinon, her heart was with Fernand Montserret. 


CHAPTER IT. 


WAR. 


The Duc de Chinon and his fair young wife. were | 


in their apartments in Paris. Not the gay, light- 
hearted Paris we love to think of, but a heart- 
broken Paris, weeping tears of blood through the 
streets for her brave sons who perished for her. ~ 

All about was chaos, everyone his own master, 
the city ran with blood, and the infuriated mob 


with the fury of a wild beast crying for more blood, : 


ransacked the city for fresh victims. 


The guillotine stood in the beautiful Place de la — 
Concorde like a spectre of revenge, and at all hours” 


of the day and night troops were marching, bands 
playing, and with a deafening applause every new 
victim’s decapitation was greeted by the mob. 


Such was Paris to the innocent young girl 
brought from her carefully sens Southern home 


of sunny France. 
‘Oh, Eugene,” she said, now turning to her hus- 
band with the hopelessness of despair, *‘ cannot we 


go away somewhere and leave all this terror behind _ 
us, itis killing us both? All day long I hear the < 


a 

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THE LAST OF THE SAINT REAULTS. 141 


shouts and the screams of the mobs and in my 
dream even their wild haggard faces haunt me, let 
us go while there is still time.” 

‘“The time is past now for retreat,’ answered 
the Duc, “‘we must wait here patiently to the bit- 
ter end, it is an evil day when Frenchman turns 
against Frenchman and France’s own sons are her 
destroyers.” 

‘*But surely it cannot last, _ they have put so 
many to death already.” | 

‘* And so it will go on, till the nobility being all 


- gone they will fall upon one another. The nobles are 


almost all gone already, but while they last we 
wait patiently for our call, it may come any min- 


ute, who can say, but we wait patiently knowing 


that when the stroke descends we pass from the 
dread scenes to a life beyond.” 
~The young duchesse shuddered, and drew closer 
to her husband while even then steps were heard | 
on the stairs. 
““They have come,” he said, in a low voice. | 
Marguerite,. terrified, cowed in a corner, and the 


door being burst open the soldiers entered. 


““Hugene Louis Auguste Chinon, you are my 
prisoner,” said one, ‘‘by the order of the Grand 
Council.” . 

‘‘T am ready,” said the Duc,’ slowly, ‘‘only one 
word to my wife, Marguerite.” 

—**T will go mith you, ” she said, ‘‘ they can kill 
me too.” | | 

“No, no, ma ese cried the husband, then 
turning to the soldier, ‘‘ will nothing save me ?”’ 


149 THE LAST OF THE SAINT REAULTS. 


‘““Say, ‘Vive la Republique ; and you are free.” 
~The Duc looked at Marguerite steadily a moment, oe 
then said, ‘‘ Vive le Roi.” | 

The soldice laughed, then said : 

‘“March forth. Come prisoner, there is no sane 
to lose, make your adieux quickly, for the justice 
has many prisoners to interview before night.” 

‘*'When is it to be ?’ asked the Duc, calmly. 

‘‘To-night, in the public square. Come on.” 

~“* Marguerite,” said the unfortunate man, ‘* take 
this and wear it for my sake.” wea 

And he threw over her head, and hung on thes ae 
breast a miniature of the ee surrounded by 
brilliants, attached by the white ribbon, with the | 
gold ‘‘ Fleurs de Lis” of the Bourbon Kings." 

‘Time is up,” said the leader, ‘* prisoner, march, te 
citoyenne you are not to leave till to-morrow when is 
the house will be demolished ; so much for the jus- 
tice’s softness, between now and te. ename you can — ‘ 
escape.” | ie: 

Hardly hearing, Marguerite cane with tears and 
sobs to her husband. and when finally she was torn 
away she sank exhausted to the floor!" a ws 


~ 


When Marguerite arose it ‘was already dusk and — 
hastily rising she looked about her. How nee 2 


or Pps Holding in the hall entered. 


Pa a ee 


THE LAST OF THE SAINT REAULTS. 143 


‘* Citoyenne,” he said, ‘‘ why do you not escape ? 


~The hour is near at hand for the execution.” 


**T cannot go and leave my husband to irretriev- 


able ruin. Tell me who is the justice who con- 
demned him; I will go to him and intercede for 
the unhappy Duc.” 


“Tt will be of no use; he would not see you.” 

‘* But tell me his name that I may seek him.” 

““Go, then, and you have only to ask the way 
from any one in the streets, for all know Fernand 


~ Montserret.”’ 


‘*Hernand Montserr et—good heavens !—my hus-. 
band’s accuser ?”’ . 

** A brave and noble man ; do you know him ?” 

“Take me to him, quick! Every moment is 
fraught with danger; oh, to be in time! Fernand 


-Montserret, spare me this unhappiness, and I will 
bless you forever!” 


Marguerite threw a shawl over her head and 
shoulders and, with her guard, passed into the 


streets. They passed through all the crowds, for 


his uniform was recognized by all. 

“Here we are,” he said, pausing, ‘‘who shall I 
say is without?” 

“The Duchesse de Chinon.” 

“There are no Duchesses now, one man is as 
good as another.” 

“You speak so to me,” said Marguerite, with 
flashing eyes, ‘‘ Fernand NDE shall punish 
you.” Pass on, I follow you.” 

They entered the room together, and Mai ‘guerite 


144 THE LAST OF THE SAINT REAULTS. 


pushed forward to where a man sat‘at a table 


writing, her shawl drawn well about her. 

‘¢Wernand Montserret I plead an audience.” 

He looked up enquiringly at the soldier. 

‘* Who is this ?” he said. 

‘‘ Another noble,” answered the coldien with a 
sneer, then withdrew. 

“My good woman do you not nae that you 
were very rash in coming here? you are completely 


in my power, I can take you prisoner and have — 


you guillotined.” 
‘‘T did not think of my nn safety in coming 


here,” answered Marguerite, “‘only of my husband — 


whom you have cruelly condemned to die. What 


has he ever done to you that you should take an ~ 


innocent life.” | 
‘“He has done nothing by himself, but France 
has suffered too long the tyranny of these selfish 


nobles, that now we are reaping the fruits of the 
seeds they sowed through despotism, avarice and — 


profligacy, your husband cannot be saved.” 
He returned to his writing, but Marguerite with 
gleaming eyes stepped closer to him. ~ 


Fernand Montserret, if ever you have loved have : 


mercy now on an unfortunate woman. I have suf- 


fered too long from your wrongs not to feel a bit- q 
terness, learn now from the lips of one who once ~ 
loved you that all now is over, for Marguerite de — 


Saint Reault stands before you.’ 
She dropped the shawl. 


*** Marguerite de Saint Reault! Am I dreaming, — 


Se See ee oe ee ee Rh Fee et ee i’, re ie ae ee va Se 
‘i ¥e ° ee, be wk ey eS ; 
y r a a ° ’ 


THE LAST OF THE SAINT REAULTS. 145 


~ my love, my darling. Iam yours for ever,” and he 
knelt at her feet. 


- **No, no, Fernand you shall not kneel to me, I 


am the wife of another, one who this moment dies 


by your hand.” 
‘“Good Heavens! your husband. My darling I 
love you so much, be mine now till eternity.” 
‘*Stand back, the Duchesse de Chinon commands 
you, I am the wife of another.” 
“The wife, oh, mon Dieu, the wife of another. 
Marguerite you have broken your promise, while I, 


I thought you honorable.” 


‘*Do not use such words as these, Fernand, an 
unhappy woman was made a sacrifice for her par- 


ent’s will. No word came from you, my happiness 


was over, so I accepted the hand my grandfather 
gave me.” 

“A plot, a conspiracy to rob me of all I held 
most dear, fool that I was to leave you with that 
old man’”—— 

‘*Hush, Fernand, grandfather is dead and can- 


not defend himself. I am thankful he never lived 


to see France rended by civil war. Oh, my: poor 


- grandfather !” 


‘You should not complain ; you are a Duchesse 
now, while I—” 

“Am the justice I have come to for mercy, not. 
as becomes my rank, but grovelling in the dust at 
your feet, where you have leveled me and my rank. 
Oh, save him! Save my husband, ere it is too 
late !” | | 

The gun sounded outside. The crowd, with one 


146 THE LAST OF THE SAINT REAULTS. — 


accord, gave a fiendish yell, which sounded with all | 
its force into the room. 
“Tt is over!” he cried, ‘‘now no one can come 
between us. You are mine—mine only, until 
death! Keep your promise, for now you are free a 
—free—free !” +4 
At this moment, a solemn knock was heard at -§ 
the door. =. 
‘‘Oh, hide me!” she cried. ‘‘ Don’t let ‘tees ne 
terrible men touch me. They are coming ; hide . 
me, quick !” | | 3 
‘Quiek as thought he opened a door, and Margue- 
rite and her shawl were a in aud the door closed 
upon them. , 
Fernand opened the “deur and armen] men ap- 
proached. . eh 
* Well,” he said, calmly. 3 | 
ee Fernand Montserret, your hour is come ; ; you ee 
are our prisoner ! ” 
“What!” cried he—‘“ what do I hear As Where 
are your orders ?” . Bis “ 
“Oh, we have the best of orders. Qome along; : : 
some one else will have to be justice now.” ey 
‘‘ What are your charges?” Fernand asked. Peers = 
‘‘ Plotting with the Royalists, denial is useless, SO 
come one the ae is ee Pc ee prs a 


rang loud and clear owe the tumult without. sae 

‘‘ How dare you make this false accusation, ean as 
his friends, have you turned traitor? Fernand = 
Montserret Hass justice as well é as liberty.” | 


THE LAST OF THE SAINT REAULTS. 147 


‘Who are you ?” asked one of the soldiers, ‘‘ah, 
ha, I thought so, a Royalist, what badge is this ? 
down with tyranny,” and pulling the miniature 
from Marguerite’s neck he threw it to his feet in 
abvome. —  .. 
~ © And so we will do with every Royalist that 
comes in our way, vive la Republique, make way 


__ there for the prisoner. And so for the second time 


.7 Se A hee oe 
7 , £ ” 


ce et. eres = yr, - wa” © 
ae Ne ee aE ee tars 
’ ‘4 


a ee 


Marguerite and Fernand had met and parted. 
He was gone, her home was ruined by this time, 
where could she go? What do tosave him whom 


* she loved? No use to plead with officials, only one 


course lay before her and that was stratagem. But 
nature was imperative and as Marguerite was about 


to execute her design she fell heavily to the floor in 


a deadly swoon. 

There the concierge found her, and laying her on 
an unused bed left herin all the agonies of a terrible 
fever. : a 
Fernand was always on het lips, and all the wo- 


‘man could learn of him was, she was going to save 


him ; hgw, she knew not, but she must save him 
ere it was too late; then she heard the fiendish 
yells of the mobs, and some one said, ‘‘it is over; ” 
then his face, set with death, looking imploringly 
at her. 


te Ty ee me Ue Ree eS SR 
tt a ee See “ey ay 


CHAPTER II. | 


VICTORY. 


For three days Marguerite lay and tossed with — 


the fever, on the fourth she was better, and on the 
fifth, feeling almost well. She arose, dressed with 
nervous haste, fear lending wings to her nimble 
fingers. ; 
‘‘What if Iam too late!” she whispered to her- 
self, and hurried with redoubled zeal. 
What disguise should she assume? An old peas- 


ant would be best. Looking in the deserted rooms — 
for an appropriate costume, she came upon what 


was once a monk’s cloak. She seized this eagerly, 
and put it on, kissing it as she did so. 


‘Now I can save him, if there is yet time. — 


Thank heaven for this disguise! Oh, Fernand, I 


can now keep my promise, ‘Faithful unto death.’” — 


Some little time after, a bent, decrepit old monk 

was asking admission to the prison. Pt 
‘‘ Who are you seeking ?”” was asked him. 
‘*Hernand Montserret. Is he here?” 


‘‘He is; but a dangerous political prisoner. He 


can see no one ; state your errand.” 


THE LAST OF THE SAINT REAULTS. 149 


‘Alas! my errand is to the souls of men, not 


‘their bodies. Iam only a poor old monk that he 


was kind to in the days of his prosperity.” 

After some more parleying on both sides, the 
jailor gave way. 

‘** You shall see him for a few moments,” he said, 


as he was taking down his huge key, ‘“‘ only make 


it brief.” 
‘“How soon does he die ?”’ asked the monk. 
‘*To-day, noon. Follow me.” 
They went through a narrow passage way of 
stone and up a flight of steps, where the jailor 
paused. 
‘Here he is,” he said and turned the key in the 
door. 
The room was dark, and as the monk advanced 
a figure came out of the shadow on the wall into 
the light. 
“Who are you seeking ?” he said. | 
‘* Fernand Montserret, you are saved,” said the 
monk. 
‘Who are you ?” he asked starting back. 
** Marguerite Chinon, who has periled her life to 


free you.” A 


And Be off her af rice she stood before 
Hite 
‘“My own, my darling. God bless you for this,” 


Ba srichion choke his utterance. 


‘Fernand, the time may yet come when we shall 


be happy, but quick, slip on this disguise, so that 


you may pass out without detection.” 
' ie 


A er bo ee ee ran gd “ces | 
=" ; ee ie ere ett he erp 


rs, 
4 


150 THE LAST OF THE SAINT REAULTS. 


She threw the cloak over his phar and the 
cowl over his face. 

‘You were to be guillotined to-day at noon aed 
I have saved you. Oh, Fernand, I feared I should 
be too late. Now, when the Re calls, you can 
go out.” ; 

‘““And you?” he asked, confused. 

‘‘T shall be Fernand Montserret. Have no fear, 
for you will be soon free.” 2 

‘But you, ey life, my (one Li cannot leave | 
you here alone.” 

Before Marguerite could reply the jailor was — 
heard calling : 

‘““Time is up, come forth from the cell of Fer- 
nand Montserret.” 
The door was opened just enough for hie monk’s 
figure to pass through, and before Fernand could 
realize it at all he found himself once more in the 
street, the light of day around him, and realized, in 
that moment of ecstacy with which prisoners — 
always greet their freedom; that he had left all 
that was worth living for behind him. Was Mar- 
guerite, now that nothing stood between them, to 
be killed by a headsman and that to save him? 

With a shudder he drew himself together, and 
proceeded to find his friends and followers, for he 
had conceived a very bold scheme. | 


* * * \ *. * 


Meanwhile, Marguerite, alone i in ie cell, to which | 4 
her love had consigned her, was preparing for the o 


ee ee a ae — |. 
7 ao eu . 


THE LAST OF THE SAINT REAULTS. 151 


_ soi-disant execution. She knew that Fernand 


would never let her die if he could help it, so the 
strong Breton soul, with that faith which surpasses 
all science, was calmly waiting forthe hour to draw 
near. 

But time passed quicker than she realized, and 
soon the summons came. She quickly placed his 


military hat on her head and drawing the long mili- 


tary cloak closely around her she was ready. 

No one noticed that she was not Fernand Mont- 
serret, but some of the prisoners stared unmerci- 
fully at her until she had to hang her head. 

Was this the gay Duchesse de Chinon? who had 
been so happy with her husband only a few short 
days ago, but now each day was an eternity to mis- 
erable Paris. Was she not happier by far now, 
saving by her own life the life of one whom she 


loved best in the whole world? ‘*‘ Faithful unto 


death.” 

Yes, faithful indeed she was and unto death it 
seemed, for death stared her in the face, and with 
all the old Saint Reault courage, she waited for it, 
unflinchingly. | 

Still, as the moments, each one an eternity to 
her, dragged slowly by, her hopes fell one by one 
rath the minutes, a she was on one brink of 


despair. 


‘* Fernand Montserret,”’ called out the executioner. 
No one moved. The cry died away, but Mar- 
guerite was turned to stone, she had not faltered 

before, now all power left her, 


152 THE LAST OF THE SAINT REAULTS. 


‘© Fernand Montserret !” called out in a louder tone 
the executioner. 

Marguerite looked around on the fair sunny 
scene she was about to lose forever. Then, ashen 
pale, she stepped forward, at the same time letting 
the cloak drop from her, revealing her dress. 

‘“What is this?” cried the executioner, angrily, 

‘‘what trick is this? woman, where is Fernand 
Montserret ?” 

‘Where you cannot get at him. . He is, thank 
God, safe now, do your worst !” . 

‘You then are-in his place, we will guillotine 
you. 9) 23 

‘Very well; 1am ready. [am et afraid to die. 
lam waiting, ‘stn ie : 

As she says these words ang turns to mount the 
guillotine steps, the stirring tones of the Marseil- 
laise is heard, and a troop of horsemen advance to — 
the foot of the guillotine. Ina moment ai Seo . 
- recognized her lover. 

‘So, Fernand Montserret, you have come back,” 
cried the executioner. ‘‘ You are just in time, the — 
guillotine is one victim short.” 

‘Then it shall not be so long ; seize that man,” 
he cried to the soldiers. ‘‘ And if he resists, kill 
him; Fernand Montserret is himself again.” | 

The mob, ever fickle, cheered at this and cried, 
‘“down with the executioner! Down with tyranny ! 
Vive la Republique, vive la Commune!’ And 


twenty swords pierced the body of the unfortunate i 


executioner. © 


The mob, ever ready for fresh victims, howled a 


THE LAST OF THE SAINT REAULTS. 153 


and cheered, steeped their handkerchiefs in the 
blood, and yelled till they were hoarse. 

‘* Now,” cried Fernand, ‘‘ who will that I should 
die? Strike, if you will, now, and let me die for 
my country here, where I stand, for men can never . 
say Fernand Montserret fears his countrymen.” 

No man’s hand stirred ; only renewed shouts of 
‘* Vive la Republique! Vive Montserret! Down 
with tyranny and power !” 

Fernand now turned to Marguerite— 

‘“We are safe, Marguerite; safe from all the 
dangers that beset our path ; and henceforth we 
shall be parted no more, but united forever. We 
have come through danger to each other, and each. 
has proven the other true and faithful. Margue- 
rite, so far I have brought you nothing but sorrow 
and fear, but henceforth the future will be only 
brighter from having seen only the under side. 
The streets of Paris are running red with the blood 
of both our friends; each has done well and each 
has suffered. Forgive me if I have been the means 
of destroying your kinsmen, but I thought only of 
France’s welfare and not my own. The struggle 
is now nearly over; my duty here is ended. Let 
us leave Paris for Brittany and forget all that has 
just happened; and remember only that we love 
each other and France, our common country.” 

He ceased, and Marguerite looking up trustfully 
into his face knew that her happiness had come at 
last. ie 

The next day saw them speeding to Brittany, and 
through all the perils of the journey they felt happy 


154 © THE LAST We ‘THE SAINT REAULTS. 


at going once more to the country where they had~- 
once been lovers. 

Fernand Montserret gave up all his positions of 
dignity and followed only where love led him. 

It was a bright, sunny morning in July, when 
they left Paris, and as Marguerite entered the coach 
that was to convey her to the nearest town, a sigh 
escaped her. 

‘““Oh, Fernand, if we had not made that Be omise 
’ where would we both be now.” 

_ “ Where so many others are,” answered Fernand, 
‘‘ where we could never see the beauties of this life 
again. ‘ Faithful untodeath,’ is the motto of your 
house, and faithful you have been through every- 
thing. The lordly race of Saint Reault dies out of 
France with the nobility, but a new race and a new 
France shall rise from the ruins, better and nobler 
for having passed through the fire burning the evil 
and leaving only the good, and Marguerite, the day — 
that we shall join our hands together shall be the | 
birth of a new era to us both.” 4 

On, on, they went through the sunny Fr aneh 7 
pllaeee in the July sunshine, little thinking of the 
towns they passed through, only of Brittany, and 
longing with a feverish haste to get there. 

The road seemed very long and dreary and every 
additional delay made them more impatient. | 

Soon Brittany was in sight, and with a thrill of — 
joy Marguerite saw Reault nestling by the bay. 
As her native village appeared before her eyes, they 
grew dim with tears. Soon the chateau, in all its — 
grandeur, rose before them, then her courage gave 


THE LAST OF THE SAINT REAULTS. 155 


way and laying her head on Fernand’s shoulder 
she wept aloud, tears of joy, that the strain was 
over and she was coming home at last and bring- 
ing with her the one being she had loved all these 
years, whose happiness now was hers and who had 
saved her from death to be his wife. 


* el Be * * 


Several days later saw another wedding cele- 
brated at the Chateau Saint Reault. The news 
had been just received of the fall and death of. 
Robespierre, and with his death the reign of terror 
was ended and France was once more la Belle 
France of chivalry and song. And yet the reign of 
terror was not altogether fruitless, for it had. 
brought these two lovers together when milder 
means had failed. A stern measure it was, but 
ardent times need violent measures and a new 
France awoke to glory, a France with all the bless- 
ings of liberty, equality and justice. 

The chateau was in holiday aspect and the wed- 
_ ding day had been a fete day to the peasants. 

The old banner waved from the tower with its 
motto, ‘‘ Faithful unto death,” never so true as ~ 
~ now, while below it floated the tri-color of Repub- 
lican France. 

Marguerite de Chinon, nee de Saint Reault, be- 
came the wife of Fernand Montserret, and the 
peasants accepted him as their master because he 
was their lady’s choice, and the chateau, which 

had been closed so long after the old master’s death, 


“4. See 


156 THE LAST OF THE SAINT REAULTS. 


was now to be closed no longer, and all were to 
enjoy the park and grand old trees that had made 
it famous. 

A crowd had collected around the door as before, 
and, as before, the bridegroom looked flushed and 


triumphant, but now instead of a pale, sorrowful | 


bride, the lovely vision of a beautiful woman stood 


beside him, gay, joyful, yet with a sombre, grave 


joy that showed that she had not fully recovered 
from the terrible scenes that she had witnessed at 
her husband’s side. 

The peasants cheered and waved, as they loge 

came down from the house to the lawn. | 

‘“Long live our new master!” shouted the peo- 
DIGsts 2. . | 
““Master no longer,” said Fernand, when the 
cheer subsided, ‘‘but every man as one, equal ; 
master and servant are done away with, and now 
you are all as free as true Bretons should be. It 


has not taken a moment to effect this change, but — 
long, hard months of pain and privation to nobles _ 


and common alike, which will live long in the 
hearts of Frenchmen. But now it is all over, and 
we can reap the harvest of it, being thankful it 


was no worse. We were all- Frenchmen, fighting — 
on French soil, for France’s freedom ; but we are — 
united at last, and Republican and Royalist are — 


united forever. We will bury the past, and as the 


Royalist Saint Reaults have died out, the brave old — - 
race have gone forever; but let us here, as Roya- a 
list and Republican, join hands and give one cheer “y 


for our country and Bretaigne.” 


ae the Rae ah i eo an he OY ieee eh i ll a r ft ~~ Se: . 
4 b ee 1 xt, Pa é 
ss i ‘ ’ 
3 - —- x A . 


ses: pa sae) ala iit Eat Fis 


THE LAST OF THE SAINT REAULTS. 157 


The air was rent with cries of ‘‘ Vive la Bre- 


_. taigne! Vive la France—la belle France! Vive la 


Republique !” 

“*And to you, my wife, my own,” he continued, 
turning to Marguerite, ‘‘our life is but just begun. 
Our motto so far has held good ; let us, as man and 


_ wife, still follow it closely, and we can never know 


dissension ; let us, in the name of the new Repub- 
lic, give up our lands and possessions and live only 
as free men can do, with only this chateau as our 
possession. And now, oh! my Marguerite, let me 
only live to love you and I will be happier than any 


_ king that ever lived, this chateau as my kingdom, 


your will my sceptre, your love my crown, so that 


Fernand Montserret may ever think this day the 


happiest he has ever known, since it brought him 
the handand heart of Marguerite de Saint Reault !” 
He opened his arms and she flew to them; and 


_ go these two, divided as they had been by men’s 


hands, had triumphed at last, and now, united as 
one, under the victorious banner of the French Re- 
public, Royalist and Republican stood together, 
wrapped in each other’s arms, to live, love, and be 


**Paithful unto Death.” 


Saladin. 


With her arms full of fresh, sweet clover leaves S 


Faith Annesley left the house and turned in the 


direction of the stables. 
It was a glorious June morning in the vent 1861, 


and, as she looked across the hills at the Hea nttal: 
country she had known all her life, a feeling of - 


oppression overwhelmed her. 


She saw the white tents, glittering arms, ae | 


fluttering banners of the Army of the Potomac ; 
for it was war times and the great struggle between 
the North and South was at its height. | 

She pushed open the stable door, when a low 


whinny of recognition: greeted het apd: she sprang . 


forward. 
‘Saladin! Saladin, see what I have brought 


you! Poor fellow; it is cruel to ace you locked ~ 


up this way ! be 


So saying, she let down a bar and took a ee q 
bunch of clover in her hand. Saladin, a large, 


chestnut horse, with small limbs and beautiful, : a 


or 8 ee 
pee a 
an 
eA 
a 
+ 


SALADIN. 159 


pleading eyes, stood in a box stall, slowly eating 


the clover from his mistress’ hand. 


At this juncture aman appeared in the doorway. 
‘Well, Faith,” he said, as he entered, ‘‘ how is 


- Saladin to-day ?” 


‘Oh, papa, do come here?” she exclaimed. 
‘*Poor Saladin. is so tired of the stable, do you 
think it would be safe for me to take a little canter 
at dusk ?” 

‘No, my child; it is out of the question. The 


troops are all Ate us, and most of them are 


rough men.” 

‘But, surely they would not harm us. We are 
neutral, you know.” : 

“They might take Saladin; horses are scarce 
just now with the army.” 

“Take Saladin! Never, while lam by. Do you 
hear that, my pet? You don’t want to be an army 
horse, do you?” 

She stood talking to him all the while, and he, 
seeming to understand, turned to look at her, and 
then laid his big, brown head on her shoulder. 

“*You dear old fellow ; you would never go wil- 
lingly. Papa, do you think there will be a battle 
soon ?”- 

‘*Very soon,” answered Mr. Annesley ; ; ‘*to-mor- 
row, or the see day at the farthest.” 

ert terrible !” she exclaimed, fervently, as 
she left the stable ; and when she had gained the 
path leading to the house and looked around her 


on. the lovely scene, she murmured again, ‘‘ how 


mrperribbe s) <7 


160 ~ SALADIN. 


‘May I draw a glass of water from your well?” 
asked a voice close beside her, and turning in alarm 
she saw an officer in the road. | 

Both he and his horse looked fred: worn and be- 
draggled. 

‘* Certainly,” answered Faith with the Bote: how 
pitality of the South, ‘‘ Won’t you come into this 
summer-house? I will get you some bread and cold — 
meat in a minute.” ae 

The soldier turned wearily into the little summer- 
house and sank down on the seat. ; RS 

In avery short time Faith had spread a dainty — 
repast for him, and watched him quietly as he pars 
took of it. = Ens 

Suddenly he paused. Bx 

“Why do you do all this for me,” heasked, “you 
a Southern girl, too, I thought my very uniform — 
would have predisposed you against me, we blue ~ 
coats are so cordially hated throughout ‘fits count 
Why are you an exception ?” 

“Would not any girl do what I hae done ? : 
North or South I care not. Ifamanis hungry he ~ 
is hungry, whether he wears a blue Coe or a grey © 
one.” = 
“You are a brave girl, but I must not ate hares ; 
any longer. Good-bye, and may you be- truly 
blessed for what you have done to-day.” és, 

With these words he mounted his soe and rode 
on. : 
Late that same evening a small company of 
Union soldiers passed the Annesley Farm. One of 3 
them tried the stable door, it yielded ; it took but 


SALADIN. | 161 


a moment to unfasten Saladin, throw the halter 


_ over his neck and creep out again into the dark- 


ness. 


As Mr. Annesley and Faith sat reading together, 


Jim, the stable boy, rushed into the house his eyes 


distended, his whole frame trembling with excite- 
ment. 


‘“Oh, masser ! She misses ! the boys has gone and 


stole Saladin, he’s clean gone right out of the 


stable.” 
‘*Out of the stable!” exclaimed Faith ; ‘‘ impos- 


: sible, ” and springing up she rushed She followed 


by the others. 
Mr. Annesley took the precaution to carry a 


lantern, and they searched until late but all in vain, 
. Saladin was gone. 


‘‘Tt was your fault, Faith,” began Mr. Mnneloy 


-**vou should not have pecteht that officer here, he 


appropriated him of course.” 

‘“‘T don’t believe it,” said Faith, excitedly, ‘‘ that 
man would not have done it. Besides if he knows 
anything about it you may be sure he will bring 
Saladin back.” 

Mr. Annesley shook his head and ane returned 
disconsolate to the house. 


It was the morning of the great battle of fat 


Run and the troops were forming. 
Captain Martin who stood on a slight eminence 


162 SALADIN. 


saw a small group of soldiers sees 3 towards him 


leading Saladin. 
‘*’You have a fine horse there ?” he said. 
One of the men smiled. 


‘You think so? We had good luck ; he came - 


from one of the stables down yonder.” 
‘* And who is to ride him ?” 


“You, if you will do me the honor of accepting: 


him,” answered the trooper. 
‘*Tt is an honor to are such an animal, and I 
thank you most heartily.” : 
‘“ You and I should be great friends,” said Martin, 


patting Saladin. “You will do the best for me — 


always, won’t you old fellow ?” 
For answer Saladin curved his neck and need 
the ground impatiently. 


Martin mounted and rode into the thickest of the | 


fight. 
What a fight it was! Bullets hissed and whizzed 
around him, cannons roared, and the din, the 


noise, the confusion, sounded like a thousand’ — 


thunderbolts carrying destruction in their path. 
As the sun began to sink the General called 
Martin to him. 


‘Captain Martin,” he said, “I am going to send — 
you with an order that demands all your courage — 


and all your skill. Have you a good horse ?” 

‘‘ None better General.” 

‘“Then take this dispatch to General Sykes at 
Stonebridge ; tell him we are hard pressed. Go, 


there is no time to be lost, and beware of sharp- 


shooters.” 


SALADIN. 163 


Martin eager to fulfill his commission shot as an 
arrow from the bow in the direction of the turnpike. 

He had left the field and was proceeding along 
the road when some stray shots sounded in the dis- 
tance, but he did not heed them. Presently a 
second volley came closer and one of the bullets, 
with a stinging sensation, lodged in his arm. 

“He, maddened with pain and struggling with a 
sudden faintness, rose in his stirrups giving the 
horse his head. 


Saladin, now on his mettle bounded forward. A — 


third volley was fired and Martin felt he was | 


wounded again. 
Then a profound silence fell upon him. Uncon- 


- scious of all but the horse’s hoofs beating on the 


road and the singing in his ears of countless far off 
murmurs ; sick and faint from loss of blood, power- 
less in everything save the instinct of clinging to 
the horse, he knew not whither he was going. 

But Saladin knew, noble animal that he was, the 
moment his head was turned from the battle field 
a wild desire and longing to be once more at home 
took possession of him. With every muscle strained, 
his head held high, his eyes flashing fire, he was 
running a race with time and circumstances. 

Every mile passed made the road more familiar 
to him, and when at last the Annesley farm rose in 
sight, new life seemed to animate him. — 

Faith and Mr. Annesley were seated in the library 
when the sound of a galloping reached their ears, 
and they rose in alarm and sprang to the door. 


2? 


164 SALADIN. 


Saladin tore through the gate and stopped before | 
their astonished eyes. 

‘*Saladin!” exclaimed Faith. ‘‘Can it be pos- ~ 
sible !” | 

She threw her arms about his neck and wept 
bitterly. 

‘*Saladin, surely, but what have we here ?” said 
Mr. Annesley, pointing to Martin. ‘‘Jim, for 
heaven’s sake, bring lights !” 

The lights being brought, Martin was lifted ten- 
derly from the saddle and the dispatch in his hand 
read. 

“Why, papa,” exclaimed Faith, “it is the same 
man that was here to-day !” 

‘* Miss Faith, chile,” said Jim, ‘‘we hab the re- 
turn o’ two friends at the once.” | 

‘‘ How kind he was! You were mistaken, papa ; 
Captain Martin came back and brought Saladin.” 

‘“Yes, my child,” said her father, ‘* but it is my 
opinion that this time it was just the other way, 
and Saladin brought him back, after all!” 


Mme. La Marquise. 


It was a gala night at court, a ball was in pro- 
gress and all the beauty and gallantry of the gay 
capital of France were present. 

It was indeed a charming sight, the ball room 
like a scene from fairy-land, the elegant toilets, the 


‘soft plashing of many waters that told of secluded 
- retreats, and the music that rose and fell with a 


rythm at once slow and graceful. 

Raoul de Subressac stood watching the scene, a 
look of discontent on his handsome face. 

‘“Mme. la Marquise is late to-night,” he re- 
marked to a statesman who stood near, as he 
looked at every fair face that came past him. 


_ Many were lovely, many beautiful, but the one he 


sought was absent. 

“‘T think there are many minds echoing your 
remark,” answered the statesman. ‘‘ Mme. la 
Marquise is to be envied, if by her presence she can 
make or mar an assemblage such as this, but are 
you not afraid to enter the ranks as one of her 


166 MME. LA MARQUISE. | 


followers? Report has it that she is so cold ahd 
disdainful and cares not the least for any one.” _ 


‘“*So much the better Monsieur, the man who 


wins her regard will win ge and it will not be 
a passing fancy I assure you.” 


“Ma foi!” exclaimed the statesman, ‘‘she is 
indeed a singular woman, but while we have been 


talking she has entered, see, there she is.” | 


A murmur of interest ran through the bal)-room, | | 
and all eyes were directed to the new comer who 


was making her devoir to royalty. 
Cephise, Marquise de —--——, was indeed a wo- 
man calculated to excite admitation: She was tall 


and slight with an admirable form, and flesh white — 


as alabaster. She was clad in a gown of palest 


pink which set off to perfection her dark lustrous — 
eyes, while pale apple blossoms lay among the 
waves of her dark hair. She had an air about her — 
of queenliness, of dignity, also a latent sadness, aa 
though she was called one of the eats, and hap- bees 


piest women of the French Court. 


As she advanced slowly up the room with several , 


escorts, Raoul de Subressac approached her.  — 


‘““Ah Madame,” he began, “‘you have caused — 
many hearts to beat high to-night fearing you — 
might not come. This is my dance, have you TOR : 


gotten ? 22 


“One does not forget so easily,” she answered, scat. 


in a low rich voice, ‘‘ but let us dance.” 


When. they paused, Raoul and _ his es! 


walked leisurely through several apartments. 
‘What a fairy scene this ig, romance Raoul 


ih o nae”. Fogle Tedertoe A “S ‘ 
/ “+ fr 


MME. LA MARQUISE: 167 


‘and to-night it-seems to me especially so, the 
gods have been propitious, and I can dance for 
once with my heart as light as my heels.” 

‘“‘Then you must have a free conscience, Mon- 
sieur ; one must be perfectly happy to thoroughly 
enjoy ea & 

“T had not expected such an answer from your 
lips.” 

‘Why not ?”’ 

“What can you know of anything but perfect 
happiness, oh, Madame, you of all women are most 
to be envied, the fates have been kind to you, lav- 


ishing fortune and position and all upon you, and - 


you, like a careless butterfly flit by stopping here 


and there to taste the sweets, the gayest, happiest 


woman in all Paris.” 
Mme. la Marquise was leaning against a fountain 
gazing into its depths and strewing rose leaves one 


by one on its tranquil bosom. 


‘“The happiest woman in all Paris, ah, Monsieur, 
that is saying a great deal,” and she Bahan 

Raoul looked at her, puzzled, there was some- 
thing about this woman that he could not under- 


stand. 


‘* What will become of us all if you, Madame, 
are getting sad. Tell me, are you not well, not 


Mme. la Marquise broke into a laugh, and witha 


_gaiety, in marked contrast to her former manner, 
answered : 


“Very well, and as happy ¢ as ever, one must not 


168 MME. LA MARQUISE. 


let one’s moods get the upper hand at a ball. Come 
let us dance, we are wasting time here.” 


They turned to leave the fountain when the — 


statesman came up. 


‘‘Ah, Madame,” he began, ‘‘ most fortunately i: 


met. There is an old friend of yours ere to-night 
who has been looking in vain for you.” 


‘* And his Sane are rewarded at last. I was not. 


so very far away.” 


‘‘ Pardon me, Madame, you eee I was not — 


referring to myself but to Mr. Edward Hebberton.” 


She gave a sort of gasp and turned pale, while 


Raoul exclaimed : 


‘What! Edward Hebberton, the leading poli- 


tician and public speaker? Cleverest man England 
has seen for a long time, the newspapers are full of 
him.” 


“The same,” answered the diplomat, ‘and. if 


Madame wishes it, will I bring him here ?” 
She inclined her head, a proud, queens gesture 
and he left her. 


In a short time he returned with the young 
~ Englishman who had made himself famous in pub- | 


lic life. | 
-‘“T hardly think we need an introduction,” began 


Mr. Hebberton. ‘Ah, Madame, you have the — 


secret of perpetual youth ; you have not changed 
at all after all these years. How long is it—ten, 
twelve years ?” 

‘*Fourteen, Mr. Hebber ton, ” she answered slowly. 


‘“‘T hope I may have the pleasure of seeing you 


MME. LA MARQUISE. 169 


often during my stay in Paris.” ‘‘May I come to see 
you ?” he asked, eagerly, as he was moving away. 

Mime. la Marquise, who up to this time had been 
_cold and as one in a dream, suddenly threw off this 
apathy and answered with an intensity that as- 
tonished those about her. 

‘Yes, come; come very soon, or won’t you dine 
with us to-morrow evening. We shall be at home 
and alone.” 

Before he could answer, another partner claimed 
Mme. la Marquise, and he hesitated. 

‘Surely you will not stand on ceremony with 
me,” she said, ‘‘ why do you hesitate? Say, you 

will come.” 

“JT will come with the greatest of pleasure,” he — 
answered, bowing. | 

A quick flush rose to her face, this proud woman 
felt she had shown him how anxious she was to 
see more of him. She turned to her new partner | 
and was soon in the maze of dancers in the ball- 
room, | - 

On the evening agreed upon, Mr. Hebberton 
wended his way to the house of the Marquise. It 
was with a mixture of emotions that he found 
- himself at. her door, a pleasure that he saw her 
once more ; a pain that he saw her as she was. 

As he phtered the room she rose with a slow lan-: 
guid grace to receive him. 

She was dressed in palest yellow ; a huge topaz 
glittered on her breast. 

“Tam so glad to see you,” she began. ‘Mr. 
Hebberton, this is my husband.”. 


170 MME. LA MARQUISE, 


The Englishman bowed, ana saw before him a _ 


dissipated roue with a vicious look under his heavy 
eyebrows. 


Dinner was Ree and all through the meal. 
conversation was somewhat stilted and unnatural, 


and it was not until Mme. la Marquise rose and 
left the room that her husband unbent. Several 
friends of his came in, wine flowed freely and rou- 
lette was introduced. Hebberton, disgusted, rose 
and went in search of his hostess. 


ee 
se 
= fy 


She was seated in her boudoir, a room perfectly 


appointed, and as he came towards her he thought 


there were tears in her eyes. 


‘‘T have come to be entertained by you,” he said, | 


smiling. ‘‘Your husband has some friends ; he 
will not miss me.” 3 


In the pause that followed, the Marquis’ voice - 


was heard loud and angry. He had evidently ea eS: 


drinking heavily. 


Hebberton was shocked, but Mme. la Marnuies | 


understood his look and a ugged her shoulders. 


‘* Let a be,” she said, ‘he is quite harmless 1 ae 


assure you.” 
‘‘TIs he often like this ?” he asked. : 


“Very often, that is his life, he could not ne s 
without it, bit tell’ me of yourself, I have not — 
heard a ee during all these year ay they say you... ~ 


have become famous.” 


‘‘They have been very kind. My career has — 


been successful. I plunged into public life-at an 


early age, it was everything to me, I cared for 


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MME. LA MARQUISE. 171 


. nothing else. I sought it, I wooed it day and night. 
I followed it as my only thought.” 


‘* And you have been rewarded,” she said, quietly, 
‘but tell.me was it for love of public life alone 


_ that you did all this 7” 


‘*Could you understand if I told you I was try- 
ing to gain forgetfulness, that my life had been 
blasted without hope, that I turned to politics as 


another man would turn to dissipation, that 1 
fought, I strove with no end in view. You see me 


here to-day famous, as you say, envied by many, 


but in vain, it has all been a mistake, and in the — 
midst of it I still remain solitary and unhappy.” 


“And in this vein you wish to marry my hus- 


~ band’s niece, Mércédés ?” 


“TI wish to marry, yes, I like her, she is all I 


could wish for, and it is time I were married.” 


‘“And would you willingly offer yourself to an 
innocent girl, knowing there is no love for her in 


_ your heart? Would you doom her to a miserable 


life? No, no, it cannot be, you do not know what 
marriage is without love. Our French marriages 


are so terrible, think how unhappy she would be. 


Forget Mércédés, let. me warn you ere it is too late, 
that one hasty step leads to years and years of re- 
morse and misery.” 

‘Do you think I could ever care for any other 


woman again?” he cried, passionately. ‘‘I loved 
-- you as Woman has ees loved by man, till 

you broke my heart—threw me over for a paltry 
title. You were French and had to abide by the 
_ laws of your country. I was a fool to come here! 


ET ok ee Hig is 
zat " sf le eee £ teat 
, : : Dahesh Wis 
’ ne / —— 


172 MME. LA MARQUISE. - 


IT had thought my passion had burned itself out ; 
but it has returned ten times stronger than be- 
fore.” | a” 
‘“‘Too—late !” she faltered. ex oa 
“Why too late? I love you and you are not a 
happy—I see it ; why not spend the remainder of 
our lives.as Nature intended we should? Wecould | 
be all in all to each es and the past will seem 
‘like a terrible dream.’ } 
‘“No!” she cried. ‘‘ Do not coupe me with such 
words. I can never be anything to you; if I 
yielded now you would soon despise me as I should 
despise myself. Leave me, if you hays nothing — 
further to say.” Cea 
“But will you not listen one moment ¢” ie 
‘“Not one!” she said. ‘“‘ Advance one step nearer — 
and I shall go in to my husband and pene him 
here to confront you.” a 
Her eyes flashed and the topaz on her brener che 
gleamed with a sinister light. Involuntarily Heb- __ 
berton quailed before her. A loud shout and voices 
raised angrily came to them from the CEG room. — 
Mme. la Marquise shrank back. 
‘That is no place for you,”’ he said. : 
“Ts not a wife’s place beside her husband? For- 
~ get what you have said and let us part friends.” * 
‘“Mme. la Marquise, I have wronged you, forgive ia 
me and if ever a time comes when you should be ae 
free I will come to you and read my answer in your 
heart. You have shown me to-day that a woman | os 
can be constant, and now good-bye.” en 
He held out his hand and she took it unable to ae 


MME. LA MARQUISE. 173 


speak, the tears shining in her eyes and on her 
cheeks. Then he passed into the dining-room. 
He was gone only afew moments, but when he 


returned to the boudoir an ashen pallor had over- 
spread his features. La Marquise sprang forward. 


‘What is it? What has happened?’ she cried. 
‘“Calm yourself,” he said, ‘‘ something terrible 
has happened. Can you prepare yourself for a great 
ss ie 
“ Anything but aiopete? 

He came towards her, love and sympathy shin- 
ing in his face, while his voice shook from the scene 
he had just been through. 

‘“Mme. la Marquise, your husband is dead. ” 


heer) 
RA, 


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WNP ay 


Reward of Merit. 


sir Bedivere and I were old friends. It happened 
in this way ; during a part of one summer he and 


-l were turned out in the same pasture, he had 
_ strained himself I believe, and I who had been there 


before felt bound to do the honors of it. 

- He and I both belonged to a young Englishman 
who had lately come into his fortune. Sir Bedi- 
vere was well-known throughout the country as a 
very promising racer. His line of ancestry went 
back through many Sirs this and Ladys that to 
King Arthur his renowned ancestor who had won 


_ the Derby ; Sir Bedivere with his small symmetri- 


cal limbs and well arched neck bid fair to outshine 
his illustrious grandsire, so when he came to our 


pasture it caused quite an excitement. 


Sir Bedivere and I formed quite a friendship, 


_ .though, of course, I was of far less importance. 


In the first place I am not a race horse at all, but 
a small red cob and my name in consequence is 
Rufus. I never had any ancestors, or if I did I 
never heard of their doing anything famous. 


a ey a! > . ‘ es da ae Shae 


176 REWARD OF MERIT. 


It was my greatest pride and pleasure to be with 
my master whenever he was jogging about the © a 
country. What hours I would stand while he 
played tennis or drank afternoon tea with one of 
his neighbors, to be rewarded with a careless “ae 
‘Dear old Rufus how patient he is,” as he seized 
the reins and I made the best of my way home. = 

It was my greatest ambition to be everything to 
him and I often wished I could win some glorious- a 
race and so win my way to my master’s heart. 

It was the eve of a great race. And what prep- — 
arations had been made for it. All the best horses 
in the county were to compete and our stables had 
no worthier representative than Sir Bedivere. : 

For weeks beforehand he had been in training, 
the stud groom took him under his own particular _ 
care. He was raced early and late, up and down 
the track, walked to cool off, and he held regular — i 
levees of my master’s friends who discussed exery ae 
inch of his magnificent body. | Hie 

At last the great day arrived. I had been sad- a 
dled, ready, awaiting my master for s some time De oy 
fore we started. ise 

He was in the saddle at a bound. ‘“‘ This is the be 
greatest day of my life,” he exclaimed to a Hoe : ce 
a as we started. ee 

How we flew over the ground. The ee No. | 
vember air blew around us, my master did net — 
check me and I, feeling to the full all these ends 
particularly the excitement that was in the air’, 
bounded on till we arrived at the race grounds. __ 

Here, although it was early a cee asl had Ee 


REWARD OF MERIT. 177 


gathered. Large parties were driving in on drags, 


h grooms walked about leading horses, the little flags 
on the course fluttered in the breeze and the crowd 
of gay feathers, ribbons and flowers swayed back- 


ward and forward in an excited:'mass. 


Suddenly the bell sounded. The Judges took 
their places and the horses filed out to the starting 
point. Among them was Sir Bedivere bearing my 
master’s colors of crimson and white. 


He held himself proudly, arching his neck and 
pawing the ground as if impatient to start. 
The flag dropped and: the horses were off at the — 


; a instant. There were seven inall. Granger had the 


lead at the start closely followed by Mogul and 
Virago. Sir Bedivere was fourth, the other three 


straggling behind. 


It was indeed a glorious sight as they thundered 


_by on the green turf; now almost out of sight ; 
now so close that you on feel their hot breath as 


they pass, every muscle strained to its utmost. | 
At the second post Granger dropped behind 


Mogul, who took the lead. Virago, who was now 


at her utmost speed, was gradually passed by Sir 


Bedivere. And so the third post was reached. 


As the fourth came into view, Granger bounded 


forward, and at the fifth he regained his original 


position, while at the same time Sir Bedivere passed 


_ Mogul. 
- The excitement now grew intense. Sir Bedivere 


and Granger were running neck to neck, and 


_ seemed to be flying through the air. They passed 
the sixth amid cheers from the- enthusiastic spec- 


_that Sir Badivers was bopitanine to ies Hos 
and shivered, then, with a conyuletye: 2e8p 
down upon the ground. : Be 

The other horses shot forward, and d Grange : 
the race. 


feet again, being led to the stables. eyes 

Then there was a long lapse. of waiting, 3 
presently my young master came to me. — He was 
deadly pale, and the hand that unfastened 1 
hitching strap trembled as if with some stro 
emotion ; then he mounted and be ee awa) } 


master was moody and incHabie. answerin 
friends’ spirited remarks with short mong if 


as divulged, theirs went straight on ; sou Was 


Sect by the pain I rushed forward bn 
the bridge. 


REWARD OF MERIT, 179 


3 boards gave way and we were precipitated into the 

‘water. . 

- For an instant I was powerless ; the boards were 

I in splinters all about us, and I felt myself drifting 

4-25 ann, down into fathomless depths. 

ane oe Then my master leaning down exclaimed : 

Nes “Dear old Rufus, save me if you love me, for 

both our sakes.” 

_ ‘This seemed to put new life into my veins and I 

plunged forward. I was stiff and cramped from 
long standing, but I struck out with all my force 

and was soon in the middle of the stream and free 

ot the debris. By an almost superhuman effort I 

- swam afew more strokes then fell, exhausted, on 
the bank. 

“Bravo, old boy !” exclaimed my master, ‘‘I can 
never forget what you have done for me to-day.” 
Then some of his friends came riding up, and I 

_ feeling very stiff and bruised, was taken home. 

_ After that day a great many changes occurred at 

my master’s. I saw with alarm that many of his 

horses were sold, his racing stables were broken up 

and he himself moved from the Hall to a small 

z cottage near by. 

I began to feel frightened, Se I, too, should 

2 have another master. 

Poor Sir Bedivere was one of the last to go, and 

he was sent to a connection of my master’s. , 

One-day he and I went over to this cousin’s place. 
It was a magnificent park, and Sir Bedivere was 


a 


turned out to graze just as he was when I first 


Brine lini, and my panics I fancie a 
him father regretfully. ies 

“Do what you can with Sir Bedivere,” 
to his cousin, as he was about to mount. a He 
fine horse.” - 2 
~“T will do my Wee but the doctor £ says it i is 


“What horse is this? He looks nee a ae or 
Bare you found a purchaser for him hs bo ere 


neck as he answered : 3 oes 
“ Sell this. dear old fellow, ‘never ! Rabie save 
my life, and I shall wk him till we have shares 
my last farthing tog ei 


